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LIFE, STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 


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BY 


JOHN W. BERRY. 


BOSTON: 
ALFRED MUDGE & SON, PRINTERS. 
 ¢1i. 


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34 School Street, Boston. 


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Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 
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By C. P. BERRY, 
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at W. 
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Stereotyped by ALFRED Munce & Son, 
. 


Dedication. 


\ 


TO MY SAINTED FATHER 


“ 


NOW IN HEAVEN, 


THE MEMORY OF WHOSE LIFE OF PURITY 


HAS BEEN TO ME 
AN INSPIRATION 


IN THE 


DIRECTION OF EVERY Goop ACTION, 


I REVERENTLY 


DEDICATE THIS BOOK, 





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INTRODUCTION. 


I was a personal friend of the subject of this book, 
and knew him in private as well as in public life. I saw 
day by day his character and talents displayed to their 
best advantage. After he had charmed thousands by 
his power and eloquence, and had been instrumental in 
saving many from the drunkard’s awful fate, his fall 
on the 17th of March, 1869, in the State of Connecticut, 
was as unexpected as it was sad. 

From that dark day, I, with other friends, followed 
him, trying to help him in his struggles against the terri- 
ble power of appetite; and after we had the joy of see- 
ing him stand up once more in all the strength of his true 
manhood, I became his constant companion until his sad 
death. 

A few weeks after this event, I became convinced 
that the story of his life ought to go before the world, 
- believing that if read by the young men of the country it 
would do good. I conferred with other personal friends 
and with prominent temperance men, and all agreed as 
to the importance of having it accomplished. With many 
misgivings in regard to my ability to do justice to the 
subject, and with a prayer to God for assistance, I began 
the work. , 


6 : INTRODUCTION. 


I have endeavored to trace his eventful life with fidelity 
to truth; and, as as far as possible, have gathered from 
his own words the thread of his life’s struggle, and have 
presented thrilling and eloquent extracts from his writings 
and best speeches, which show the man better than any 
words of mine. In explanation of the long delay in the 
appearance of this work, we wish to state that it was 
owing to the necessary and unavoidable waiting for 
some matters absolutely essential to the completion of 
the same. And we beg, also, to apologize for the many 
errors of matter and manner herein contained. 

If, in the reading of these pages, any poor, tempted 
heart shall be made stronger to battle against intem- 
perance, or one young man saved from the curse of the 
cup, I shall be more than repaid for any effort of mine. 
I cannot close without thanking the friends who have 
kindly assisted me in the way of furnishing facts and 
dates. 

JoHN W. Berry. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I. 
PAGE 


BirtTaH — CHILDHOOD — LEAVING HOME— ARRIVAL IN NEW YORK—ASSO=— 


EC. Me eed E a Rate eee. fe lw) 8 tee ee OD 


CHAPTER II. 
ScHoo~t DAYS— ADMITTED TO THE BAR—COMPANIONS —FORMATION OF 
DRINKING HABITS, ETC. ° . . ° ° . ° ° 5 18 
CHAPTER III. 


MARRIAGE — BRIGHT AND DARK DAYS—FAMILY RELATIONS . c . ee 4!) 


CHAPTER IV. 
STRUGGLE RAGING— DESPERATE EFFORTS TO REFORM—LETTER TO Com- 
PANION — INCIDENTS = . ‘: ; ° e ° ' - pS 
CHAPTER V. 
DESPAIR OF REFORMING—ENLISTING AS A SOLDIER—FIRST MONTHS IN 
ARMY —T'HRILLING INCIDENTS, ETC. é ‘ ote ° ° ° Oe 
CHAPTER VI. 


SEPARATION FROM WIFE—FINAL LETTER TO WIFE . e ° e ° » 49 


CHAPTER VII. 


FiGHTING — WOUNDED— TAKEN PRISONER— LIFE IN PRISON, ETC. ° » 53 


CHAPTER VIII. 


RELEASE FROM PRISON—SIGNING THE PLEDGE— LETTER FROM JOHN B. 
GoucH— WoRK IN THE CHRISTIAN COMMISSION — THRILLING LETTERS 
IROM THE BATTLE-FIELD, ETC. . ° ° ° ohne . ° ° eR 


8 CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER IX. 
PAGE 


DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH APPETITE — THRILLING STORY . ‘ « ae 


CHAPTER X. 


ATTENDS ARMY SUPPER AT ALEXANDRIA — DRINKS THE TOASTS IN COLD 
WATER—HIs ABSTINENCE CHALLENGED— RISES, AND GIVES HIS ELO- 
QUENT TRIBUTE TO COLD WATER— GOUGH’s, DENTON’S TRIBUTE . - 8 


CHAPTER XI. 


First LETTER TO Boston —OTHER LETTERS— EXTRACTS FROM WRITINGS - 98 


CHAPTER XII. 


His First VISIT TO MASSACHUSETTS —SPEECH, ETC. Fi . e e « 107 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PERSONAL EXPERIENCE — HARD STRUGGLES — SPEECHES, EXTRACTS, ETc. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


CIRCUMSTANCES OF His FALL ; ° . ; “ - = . r a ded 


CHAPTER XV. 
DESPERATE STRUGGLE TO REGAIN HIS FORMER PostTioN— LETTERS, ETc. . 151 


CHAPTER XVI. 


CIRCUMSTANCES OF HIS DEATH— SPEECH — EXTRACTS FROM DIARY, Etc. . 173 


CHAPTER XVII. 


FUNERAL EXERCISE—SPEECH, Etc. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


LETTERS FROM REV. WM. M. THAYER, REV. E. P. MARVIN, D.D., REv. W. 
H.H. Murray WeENDELL PuiLuips, Hon. HENRY WILSON, REvy. GIL- 
BERT HAVEN, D. D., REV. D. OC. Eppy, anp J. H. ORNE, Esq., Etc. . 194 


CHAPTER XIX. 


REVIEW— LESSONS OF His LirFE—STRENGTH OF APPETITE — ESTIMATES OF 
Liquor TRAFFIC —PROGRESS OF REFORM, Etc. . e . ° a” Ace 20S 


° e e ° e e ° e e 190 . 


Ptr 


UNIAC: 


HIs 


LIFE, STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 


CHAPTER I. 


BIRTH — CHILDHOOD — LEAVING HOME — ARRIVAL IN NEW 
YORK — ASSOCIATIONS, ETC. 


_ Waite it may not be of much interest to know the 
details of the early life of Untac, we have thought a few 
prominent facts connected with his childhood of impor- 
tance, as illustrating and explaining his after career. 
Sometimes, in the early years of a man’s life, we can 
detect incidents that shape and mould all his future. 
Edward H. Uniac was born in the town of Waterford, 
Ireland, on the eighth day of July, 1833. His parents 
were Irish, of the Protestant faith, and members of the 
Church of England. His father was a colonel in the 
British army, and is represented as being an Irish gentle- 
man of the old school, very strict in his family govern- 
ment, and sometimes almost severe. In Mr. Uniac’s 
diary, he speaks of his parents, home, and youth, as fol- 
lows: “I had a mother to direct me in the way of piety, 
and a good Christian father to advise and guide me, and 
every Sabbath found me at the foot of the altar, filling 
up my little soul with divine truth and love. My light 


10 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


shone brightly then, my days rolled by like a smooth- 
faced river, my happiness was complete.” 

This extract is enough to satisfy us that his home 
' training was good, and that his young feet were led in 
very different paths from those dark and dangerous ones — 
through which he afterwards walked. | 

There have been two stories told in regard to his leaving 
home, which we will give, without vouching for the truth 
of either of them. At the time of the O’Connell trouble 
in Ireland, in the year 1848, Edward was attending a 
school to which was attached a military department, and — 
although a mere boy he drilled in secret, after dark, a 
number of men who sympathized with O’Connell. 

An order was issued about this time by the British 
Government, to arrest all who had assisted in giving mil- 
itary instructions to the rebels. As soon as the facts 
connected with the drilling of the men came to the ears 
of Uniac’s father, he hastened to the school, took his son 
away, and, as the best means of saving him from. arrest 
and punishment under the law, secured him a passage on 
a vessel bound for New York. 

The other story says, that his father was in the habit 
of whipping his children, and after one of these severe 
punishments, Edward resolved to leave home without his 
father’s knowledge, and did so, after having secured pas- 
sage for America. 

It is not of importance for us to know which of these 
stories is true, for the information in our possession is 
too meagre to dwell long on this part of his life. We 
know that he arrived in the city of New York, with his 
future to make by his own hands. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 11 


A little incident occurred on his passage, and as it 
has a bearing on his future, we will give it. It was cus- 
tomary in those days to supply sailors with “grog,” and 
once when they were drinking it, one of the men offered 
the boy a taste from his dipper. In speaking of the 
incident, Uniac said: “I did not dare to refuse, and 
took a few swallows,” and as he passed the dipper back, 
the old sailor said, “That boy knows what is good.” 
And Uniac said, “I confess I did like the taste of it, and 
though the sailors did not offer me any more during the 
‘voyage, I used to often wish they would.” 

Some people believe that certain persons are born with 
an appetite for strong drink, something which they 
inherit and take to naturally, and there seems to be good 
grounds for believing this to be true. Had the drinking 
of the few swallows of grog —referred to above — been 
distasteful to the boy, the remembrance of it would have 
been unpleasant, and he would have had no inclination or 
desire to repeat it. 

Some men have become drunkards, who were first 
fascinated with the effect, rather than the taste; but 
when both the taste, and the desire for the effect, are 
strong, the individual who possesses them is, indeed, 
unfortunate. From the incident referred to, and the 
testimony of Uniac in after years, we may infer that he 
was thus unfortunate in having this natural desire for 
that which was the bane of his life. 

One evening Uniac spoke of his childhood days, and 
said: “ Whatever has come to me through the evil of 
intemperance is not owing to any wrong influence con- 
nected with my home, for though in those days it was the 


12 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


fashion to use wine at Any. ale I do not remember ever 
seeing any at my father’s 

In a letter written he he was struggling with his 
enemy, after speaking feelingly of some dear friends 
of his youth, he says, “ When I think of the advantages 
that were presented to me in my young days, and feel 
how mush I might have accomplished, had I been true 
to my home education, I feel keenly the truth of Whit- 
tier’s words, when he says, — 


‘Of all sad words of tongue or pen, 
The saddest are these, it might have been.’” 


When we think how small anevent changes the course 
of a man’s life, how tenderly careful should we be in 
regard to the position in which we place the young! 
Consider the difference in this man’s life, caused by his 
leaving the home associations ! 

There is something mysterious about Uniac’s fit 
days in this country. We have not been able to get 
much in the way of dates, to assist us in following his 
life very closely at this time, and are therefore obliged 
to present what we have, in a somewhat disconnected 
manner. In one of his lectures, he alluded to his 
native land as follows: “Some people seem to regard 
it as a crime to be an Irishman; if so, I'am a criminal. 
My grandfather, and also my great-grandfather, were 
born in the south of France, while my father, and all 
my ancestors on the maternal side, were born in Ireland ; 
so that I am a branch shooting out from a truly noble 
Celtic trunk, that shot up centuries ago in the groves 
of this green isle of the sea. My love for my native 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 13 


country is as pure as.a child’s love for his mother; and,’ 
though I left her quite young, I have not forgotten her 
- green fields and noble-hearted people. 

“America is the wife and choice of my adoption. 
Every law, human and divine, bids me protect both. 

“YT would fight for Ireland if I had the opportunity ; I 
have fought beneath the folds of your banner, as it flut- 
tered in the breeze, and entwined its stripes around the 
Irish harp, and scattered the radiance of its stars over 
the green field of the Irish standard. Side by side they 
fought, on they pressed, o’er the dead and dying, 
through the scattered sides of the foe, never shrinking 
from the post assigned them, — standing firm, Irish and 
American, until victory was won, or the contest decided.” 

The above beautiful extract shows that he never for- 
got the home of his childhood. 

_He was probably supplied with one or two letters of 
introduction to some prominent gentlemen in this coun- 
try; and after a pleasant passage across the Atlantic, 
landed in the great city of New York, with hardly a 
friend in the country. Innocent and pure, fresh from the 
blessings and benedictions of a Christian home, he stood 
in the midst of crime and temptation of every kind. 
What a position for any youth to occupy, who wanted 
to be true to virtue and temperance ! 

With thousands on his right and on his left ready to 
tempt and lead to ruin and destruction, with untold 
numbers of dram-shops on every street, how is it pos- 
sible that he, or any young man similarly situated, shall 
be able to pass through this furnace of vice, and come 
out without the smeil of smoke upon his garments! 


14 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


How long he remained alone, or what was his daily 
occupation, we do not know. Neither have we any 
letters telling much about this period in the life of our 
subject. . 

Any one who has visited the institutions on Blackwell’s 
Island, and noticed the hundreds of bright and intelli- 
gent-looking boys confined there for various crimes, must 
have felt impressed with the dangers that beset the youth 
of our great cities. In conversing with some of the 
officers of the institution, we found that many who were 
inmates, although mere boys, had contracted the habit 
of using intoxicating drinks as a beverage. The street 
education of our larger towns and cities is becoming 
worse and worse. ‘The indecent literature in the form 
of illustrated sheets, together with the notoriety given 
by respectable journals to races of every description, the 
street gambling carried on under the name of gift enter- 
prises, and the desire of managers of what is called 
variety theatres, to cater to the lower tastes and pas 
sions of the people, all tend to demoralize the young and 
rising generation. 

What shall be done to purify and make safe our 
streets, is a question fraught with deep interest to the 
future of this nation. Let any one take a stroll after ° 
the lamps are lighted, and survey our cities by gas-light, 
and they will be convinced that it is not safe, in the pres- 
ent condition of affairs, to have a police department 
appointed by, and responsible to, the voters of these 
cities for their position and support. It is true that the 
attempt to govern and control these municipalities is 
really a failure, while the officers are dependent on the 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 15 


votes and influence of keepers of brothels and dram- 
shops. When the public sentiment is educated up to the 
point that shall demand the enactment of sound and 
wholesome laws for the prevention and punishment of 
crime, and sustain the authorities in the enforcement of 
the same, then shall we see our large cities well and 
properly governed. 

Uniac probably did not remain in New York City but 
a few weeks, for not very long after his arrival we hear 
of him at Troy in the same State. One of the letters of 
introduction that he had, was to a ee residing in 
that city. 

His boyhood days were doubtless like those of other 
boys, except, as he often said, he used to wish he was 
old enough to join the social gatherings where the wine- 
cup went round; thus showing that his natural inclina- 
tion was tending in the direction of wine drinking. 

We are not able to tell who were his companions at 
this time; for, while Uniac was confiding in his nature, 
he seldom mentioned the time of which we are writing. 
Could we know the every-day history of those youthful 
days, the temptations of every hour that came to him, 
we might be able to tell when he first ‘formed the habit 
of drinking, and found himself engaged in the contest 
that was to be his life’s struggle. Who can tell the heart- 
aches, the cares, self-denial, and glorious fighting neces- 
sary to a man of his nature? 

A man of this character is dependent on the circumstan- 
ces that surround him for his success in life. Had Uniac 
passed his youthful days in the society of temperate and 
virtuous people, his struggle would have been less severe, 


16 -  UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


and his victory almost certain. We cannot estimate too 
highly how much our boys are affected by their associa- 
tions in the tender years of life, when they are, bemg 
moulded for all their future. 

Every mother who has sent her son into the world to 
seek his fortune, feels the great importance of good 
surroundings for her boy, in the direction of having for 
his companions those who are pledged to temperance 
and virtue. 

In all our great cities we need attractions for young 
men and youth, in the way of innocent amusements. 
If a dance-house, with bar-room attached, is opened on 
one corner of a street, let efforts be made to open a ~ 
pleasant and attractive place of amusement on the other 
side of the same street, under the control of Christian 
men and women. MUHave a reading-room, but do not 
stop there; have also a billiard-room and a bowling- 
alley, where they can have an opportunity to play these 
games, — harmless in themselves, — and not be tempted 
to drink. We ought not to let the enemies of temper- 
ance have the only places. where men.can indulge in 
these kinds of sports, and thus draw in many young men 
who would not go there if they could find anywhere else 
a place to indulge their taste for these amusements. 

Young men — many of them — are of a social nature, 
and like the society of women; and if our Christian 
women do not give an opportunity to these homeless 
youth to enjoy the society of the pure women, the 
temptation to seek the impure will be great. Uniac, in 
one of his lectures, in referring to a period of his life 
when he was alone in Troy, said, *O, how often did I 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 17 


wish I could come under the influence of good women, 
to feel their purifying presence; and many a night as 
I wandered through the street, and saw the light of 
happy firesides gleaming out warm and bright, I have 
been almost tempted to open the door of some home and 
walk in.” He also related the following story. “One 
Christmas eve, when the snow was coming down rapidly, 
I had only a low, dingy room in a dirty house; and as I 
heard the vesper bells ringing out on the night air, 
I could not stay where I was, and so, putting on my old 
worn overcoat, I started out on to the street. I met 
people hurrying hither and thither, all bent on happi- 
ness; now would come a group of merry, laughing 
children, hastening to take part in the pleasures of a 
Christmas tree ; and now comes a party of young men, 
talking and laughing ; while I wandered up and down the 
street, looking into this window, and standing in that 
doorway, wishing and hoping that before another Christ- 
mus rolled round, I too might also be free from the 
temptation of street life. O, how I felt that night! and 
O, how many young men feel to-night as I felt then! 
Can we not help them?” 

Uniae’s experience at this time has its repetition in 
the history of hundreds and thousands of the noblest and 
best of our young men. 

Bellows has painted a beautiful picture, called the 
“Echo”; in the foreground is a boat containing two 
soldiers and their friends, who have been out to meet 
and welcome them to “Home, sweet home.” One of them, 
an officer, pillows his weary head on his mother’s lap ; 
the other, u cavalry trumpeter, with his affianced by his 

2 


18 | UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


side, has just played “Home, sweet home,” and all 
seem to be listening to catch the echo of that dear old 
strain, as it comes reverberating over hill and through 
dell, making all nature vocal with sweetest music. In 
the distance may be seen bonfires, mingling their 
brightness with the golden rays of setting day, all seem- 
ing to be a glorious ending to the sad day of gloom that 
had long hung over our country. As we looked at that 
picture, we thought there are others, who have been 
fighting the battle of life for more than four years, who 
have been wounded often; and they wander up and down 
our streets, and listen for the echo of home language and 
home virtues. Let them but hear it, never so faintly, 
and many of them will turn Le the error of their ways, 
and be men once more. 

Shall we speak the word? Will we make an effort to 
save the homeless and friendless? If we will do this 


duty, God will reward, and Heaven will bless our | 


efforts. | 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 19 


CHAPTER II. 


SCHOOL DAYS—-ADMITTED TO THE BAR— COMPANIONS 
— FORMATION OF DRINKING HABITS, ETC. 


Ir was in the city of Troy, or somewhere in that imme- 
diate vicinity, that he attended school for two or three 
years. While going to school, he frequently went to the 
court-house, and was much interested in the trial cases. 
He had such an excellent memory, that after listening to 
the argument of some attorney, he would go home and 
repeat all the leading points; in fact, he showed such a 
love for the law, that he was advised to select that pro- 
fession, and did so, and soon after entered the office of an 
attorney, and began to prepare himself for the practice 
of the law. 

From the most reliable information, we feel convinced 
that during these years, while a student at law, he formed 
the habit of drinking regularly. This must be so, from 
the fact that about the time he was admitted to the bar, 
he received the sad intelligence of his mother’s death, 
and years afterwards, when speaking of this event, he re- 
marked that his conscience smote him, for he knew that he 
had been doing that which she would not have approved. 
But, in a letter written years after, he dates his down- 
ward career a few years later ; but doubtless the seeds were 
sown while he mingled with the young and fashionable 


20 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


portion of society. We should remember that at that 
time the temperance reform had not made great progress 
in the direction of influencing public opinion, or diminish- 
ing the traffic in intoxicating liquors, and therefore the 
society that a young student or lawyer mingled in, was 
probably. of that kind that admitted and countenanced 
social drinking. We have proof of this in the following 
extract from one of his letters: “I well remember the 
effect that some of the evening parties used to have on 
me and other students, in the direction of headaches con- 
sequent on champagne drinking.” Although much of 
what is called the best society of to-day place wine on the 
table, it is going more and more out of fashion, and is 
being banished from homes every year. ‘This was never 
more noticeable than during the present season at Wash- 
ington; and had a popular writer, who began an article 
for the “Atlantic Monthly” with the statement, that 
“ Teetotallers confess their failure,” read correctly the 
signs of the times, and noted the substantial progress of 
teetotalism, he would have found it impossible for an 
intelligent teetotaller anywhere, to have admitted any- 
thing like a failure, where there has been so much success. 

Uniac said, that during his temperance work in Massa- 
chusetts, he took occasion, while visiting New York, to 
look around among those who were his former associates, 
and he was surprised at the change that had taken place. 
Shops were closed in many instances, and a generation 
of drunkards seemed to have passed away, while young 
and active business men had taken their places, and he 
could see a decided gain for temperance and morality. 
He seemed to be very much impressed with one fact, and 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. | 21 


that was the large number who had died since he knew 
the locality. This is noticeable everywhere among drink- 
ing men. A lawyer who has practised in one of our large 
cities for twenty odd years, said that right in the square 
where his office was, he could count twenty lawyers, who 
started in life when he did, with hopes as bright and 
prospects as fair, who had long since found an early 
grave, through the effects of intemperance. We do not 
fully realize these appalling facts, so quiet and insidious 
are the workings of this evil in our very midst. 

Uniac told one thrilling story of a companion of these 
dark days. While he was reading law, he became 
acquainted with a young man, a graduate of a college, 
with fine natural abilities, who was his constant friend, 
and who, like him, had a powerful appetite with which he 
was struggling. When he graduated from college, his 
abilities were of so marked acharacter, that all who knew 
him confidently predicted, that before many years he 
would occupy a high position in the profession; and, for 
the first two or three years that he practised law, he was 
very successful. But his appetite grew stronger and 
stronger, and his efforts to resist it were less effectual. 
He had married a lady of a good family, and by the union 
a little boy was born. Not to dwell on the details, suf- 
fice itto say, that from continual drinking and exposure, 
it became evident he had contracted that slow but fatal 
disease, consumption. When he came near his death, 
he called his friends around him, and said he had but 
one request to make, and that was, as he had disap- 
pointed the hopes and expectations of all, and had 
disgraced his wife and child while. living, “ When I die, 


— 


2am it UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


in some obscure spot in the old graveyard of my native 
town, let me rest; but raise not a stone, or carve a line, 
to mark the place where I lie; for if I disgraced you 
while living, I would in death be forgotten.” And should 
the reader wander through the sacred spot, doubtless he 
would find nothing to note the resting-place of this ruined 
man, not even the raised mound, for time has long since 
levelled that. But once every year, when the flowers 
bloom, with uncovered head, above that spot a youth 
stands, and gathers, from the remembrance of his father’s 
struggle, inspiration and strength to stand firm by the 
vow and promise to touch not, taste not, anything that 
shall intoxicate, made as he listened to this sad story at 
his mother’s knee. 

There is a story almost the counterpart to the above, 
told feelingly to the people by an earnest and eloquent 
temperance speaker in Massachusetts, who concludes it 
by saying, that in Plymouth County there is a lonely 
grave, unnamed and unknown, where lies buried one of 
the most brilliant and gifted scholars, cut off in the prime 
of his manhood by this same great destroyer. 

Uniac would often sit for hours, and tell incidents of 
the ruin of those he loved, while the tears would run 
down his cheeks, and with trembling voice he would say, 
“I pray God to give me victory in this struggle for life, 
character, and all that is dear.” | 

We do not expect to show that at this time of his life 
he had no faults, perhaps other than those that come from 
intemperance ; but whatever they were, however agera- 
vated their character, we feel sure that those living, who 
remember these days and who may have been associated 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 23 


with him by the tenderest ties, will agree with us when 
we say, that had it not been for the intoxicating cup, his 
condition would have been brighter, happier, and better. 

We do not know as his present every-day life differed 
from hundreds and thousands of those who are similarly | 
situated. But his brilliant talents were so prominently 
before the public, and his struggle so manifest, that no 
young man can read the sad tale, and not feel that it is 
dangerous for him to tamper with that which ruined 
Uniac. , 

In a letter written to a friend, he says, “You will 
remember, my dear friend, that in our talk last night I 
spoke of the days when I had a happy home; and you 
must have observed how reticent I was in regard to 
incidents and scenes of which my heart seemed to be full. 
I thought perhaps you might misunderstand my manner, 
and I just drop you a line to say that I have no friend to 
whom I would sooner confide anything connected with 
my life’s story. But there are some things too sacred to 
lift the veil, and disclose to other eyes than those imme- 
diately interested. When a man looks on any work that 
has cost him years of toil, and at last has the satisfac- 
tion of seeing it in its perfection, and learns to love it as 
he gazes on its beauty, and then in a little while beholds 
it shattered and ruined at his feet, and feels that he has 
accomplished this ruin all himself, he must feel some- 
thing as I do when I see the fondest hopes of my life — 
home, domestic happiness, and all— a wreck at my feet ;_ 
and I cannot talk freely of those days when the storm 
of intemperance had not shattered the idols of my heart. 
And this is my excuse for seeming indifferent in regard 


24 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


to the line of conversation your remark suggested. I 
feel I must ‘let the dead past bury its dead,’ and that for 
me, with God’s help, the future must atone in some meas- 
ure for the disappointments, broken vows, and shattered 
hopes of the past. I sometimes feel the truth of the 
poet’s words, when he says, — 
‘What peaceful hours I once enjoyed, 
How sweet their mentory still; 


But they have left an aching void 
The world can never fill.’ ” 


When he referred to these days, tears would fill his 
eyes, and he would often say,— 

"OQ God! had I stopped before I became a slave to 
this power !” 

In a letter written to an intimate friend, he says :— 

“I have often thought of my life at the time after I 
was admitted to the bar, and wondered that I had any 
business at all; for I had began to drink so much that I 
could not attend to my business well.” 

This shows that at this hour the enemy of his life 
had begun to get the better of his manhood and 
virtue. 

We found the following note among some old 
papers : — 


‘‘DeAaR NED,— You got through with your business at the court- 
house to-day very nicely, but I am frank to say, if you had taken one 
glass less, or drank none at all, you would have done quite as well. 
* What do you think? Yours, JIM.” 


This note was undoubtedly from some young com- 
panion, and he had kept it with his papers; and as it 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 25 


was worn with much handling, perhaps he had looked 
at it, and thought how much he would have been saved 
from, had he heeded the warning this implied; while on 
the back of it was written these words, in Uniac’s hand, 
“Poor Jim! had he but followed the advice his good 
heart prompted him to give me, he would not now be 
filling the grave of a drunkard.” 

This tells us why he valued this piece of paper. Who 
shall ever know the struggles of this man who feared for 
his friend? How often do we find people giving advice 
to their friends, when they are in more danger them- 
selves ! 

Some men who have the appetite for liquor ‘have lost 
the power to do what they feel to be right; they cannot 
say “No,” when invited to drink; and more young men 
can trace their ruin to this custom of “treating,” than to 
almost any other influence. Uniac has often said, when 
referring to those days when he was at the bar as a 
young lawyer, that he would get up in the morning, and 
make a solemn promise to abstain, and would be able to 
keep his resolve, until pressed to drink by some friend, 
who seemed to regard his refusal as an insult to his invi- 
tation, and he would yield. 

A story is related of a gentleman who was in the 
company of Jews for a few months, and everywhere 
they went, they invited the gentleman to drink wine and 
other drinks of this nature. He told them he did not 
need the drink, he did not like it, but all to no purpose ; 
they insisted, and he yielded. The time soon came 
when they returned the visit; and before they arrived, 
he had cooked a large quantity of bacon; and when they 


26 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


came, he politely invited them to partake of the same. 
Of course they refused, insisting that they did not be- 
lieve in eating it; but the gentleman reminded them that 
when he was their guest, they insisted on his drinking, 
when he was not thirsty, that which he did not like, 
and that they felt insulted by his refusal; and now he 
demanded of them that they should eat whenever he felt 
like offering it to them. 

And it is just as reasonable and proper to require a 
man to eat every time you ask him, just what you feel 
like presenting, as to expect a man to drink when he 
does not need it, or believe in taking it. 

The following, from Uniac, will show how matters 
stood with him, when he began the practice of law : — 

“Well, I have chosen my profession, and have in 
reality begun the work of life. Now, on what are my 
hopes founded, that I shall meet with success worthy 
of my manhood? This is my birthday, a kind of mile- 
stone in the journey of life, a place to stop and consider 
the past, and gather strength and courage for the future. 
I am young in years, yet I seem old. in sins. How 
gladly, gladly would I blot out many scenes in my life’s 
history! ‘To-day, my mind runs back to those blessed 
birthdays I spent at home, under the influence of a dear 
mother, whose life was one of devotion to her children. 
How differently am I situated now! How much of the 
world have I seen in afew years! I feel almost dis- 
heartened, and ready to give up the struggle before I 
have begun it. I make the highest and the firmest re- 
solves, and go forth to keep and sustain them; I meet 
with temptations, and am lost. My nature is peculiarly 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 27 


sensitive; I do not like to give or take offence, and am 
easily persuaded to yield to the tempter. Now on this 
day, the starting of a new year of my life, I pray God 
to give me strength to do my whole duty, to keep me 
from yielding to temptation, to make mea man, stand- 
ing in his holy image.” 

The above was written on the leaf of an old book, and 
was kept in his desk for many years. 

He was at times very despondent, and felt his condi- 
tion deeply. We cannot reflect on what he afterwards 
passed through, without feeling that he must have had 
many sad and gloomy hours. It is a remarkable fact, 
that all through his life, amid the darkest days, he 
seemed to have hours when he would fully realize his 
true position, thus proving that he never gave himself 
up to his condition, but kept up the fight heroically, 
battling with a terrible power. 

It is true, in the case of every drinking man, that he 
has seen, or will see, the time when he has the power to 
stop the tasting of the intoxicating cup, but not the will ; 
and soon the hour comes when the will is good, but the 
power is gone. O, what an awful position is a man in 
then! As we have seen Uniac on his knees, crying, 
*“O, my God! must I die a drunkard?” as great drops 
of sweat stood out on his forehead, we have felt that this 
man had indeed the will to reform, but, alas! he had 
lost the power. When he was writing on his birthday, 
doubtless he had more power than will. He had not 
will enough to meet his companions, and refuse; but he 
saw the time afterwards, when he would have been 
willing to have lost all his friends if he could have had 


28 | UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


the strength to resist the craving of his own appetite. 
Many to-day are debating the expediency, rather than 
the question, of right. ‘“ Will it be best for my friends, 
for my business?” is the question men are asking them- 
selves, and are not looking to the time which is coming 
with many of them, when friends and everything else 
will forsake them, and they will be left. powerless to 
act. 

Soon after the birthday referred to, Uniac pledged 
himself not to drink any more, and for a time everything 
went well. Business began to increase, and we find the 
following in his diary: “Iam doing well; I have kept 
myself free from the cup for sometime, and this morning 
I saw the sun rise, and it seemed to me the world never 
looked so beautiful as now, and the birds never sang 
half so sweetly. O, though I have not sunk so low as 
many, I feel I have lost much of the beauty of earth by 
clouding my vision with a false curtain of supposed 
pleasures.” If now some good angel had unfolded to his 
view, and shown him the future, painted out the blots 
and tears, the sad pictures that were to make up his life 
unless he continued on in this new way, how would he 
have changed the painting of his after career! how much 
brighter and fresher would he have presented it to the 
world! and in after years, instead of saying mournfully, 
“It might have been,” would have stood up in his man- 
hood, and said, “It has been.” 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 20 


CHAPTER III. 


MARRIAGE — BRIGHT AND DARK DAYS—FAMILY RELA- 
TIONS. 


He had now become acquainted with an estimable 
lady, to whom, after a courtship of some little time, he 
was married. 

We would gladly pass over this portion of his life, and 
remain silent on everything’ connected with his wife, 
marriage, and children, did we not desire to tell the 
whole story, for the purpose of showing the utter hide- 
ousness of the demon intemperance, — to show to what 
depths of degradation it will carry.a man, even to the 
condition of disgracing home, and all that is holy and 
sacred about the family circle; for it seems not only to 
steal away the brains, but the heart, and all those high 

and noble feelings that lift a man above the meaner things 
of earth. It would seem natural, even though a man had 
contracted bad habits while he was young and alone in 
the world, that when he promised to love, honor, and 
protect a noble-hearted woman who was as pure as snow, 
he would reform altogether. But when we blame a man 
for doing what looks to us a terribly wrong and wicked 
act, we should not fail to remember, that only those who 
have had the bitter experience, with a fearfully depraved 
appetite, can begin to comprehend what a man will do or 


30 | UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


leave undone, in order to satisfy the cravings of what 
has become a diseased body. The testimony of nearly 
all who have come under this curse, proves that there 
are times when at the risk of all they hold dear on earth, 
or hope for hereafter, they will have drink. We have 
heard a celebrated orator, who has passed through this 
fiery ordeal, say that he has seen whole days when he 
would have been willing to have placed his right hand 
into a scorching flame, and taken it out burnt to a crisp, 
if thereby he could have satisfied his fearful appetite. 
So in considering the subject of this book, his relation 
with his wife and dearest friends, finding him of good 
natural qualities when not under the power of his appe- 
tite, fulfilling all the duties of husband and father, and 
utterly disregarding them at other times, let us remember 
the power that controlled him, think of his desperate: 
struggles to free himself, and from this standpoint judge 
him. After his marriage he continued the practice of law, 
and from his statement of the business le transacted, he 
must have met with decided success, and had as bright 
prospects as any young man then at the bar. Unfortu- 
nately for him, many of his best clients (in a financial 
view) were engaged in the liquor business; and as a 
natural consequence, his whole association soon became 
with men of this character. ‘He felt that he was being 
bound hand and foot, and often resolved to free himself 
from its thraldom. He regarded this period of his life 
as among the darkest of all his days, for now the star of 
hope gleamed. but faintly. Hehad those he loved, and 
who cared for him, but of course he soon began to neg- 
lect his business, and it gradually left him; for even 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 31 


those who are engaged in the rum business, are not 
willing to trust men with ‘heir business, who were under 
the influence of their goods. 

By his marriage two children were born, one of which 

is still living in the city of Philadelphia; and although 
her father was often overcome by his life’s enemy, she 
need not blush when she reads the record of work he 
accomplished for God and humanity, while he labored 
for temperance. ' We will not weary the reader by going 
into the details of his condition, and the incidents of his 
every-day life at this time. While he was in the midst 
of his drinking habits, and had probably become some- 
what reduced in finances, he received news of the death 
of his father, by which he came into possession of about 
thirty-two thousand dollars. This money, coming at 
this critical time in his life, was like fuel to a-burning 
building. If we have made a mistake in regard to the 
time when this happened, it will not matter, as there is 
no doubt but what he did receive this amount at some 
period when he was nearly under the control of his ap- 
petite. He had also spent about eight thousand dollars 
which he had saved, so that about forty thousand dollars 
(a large fortune in those days) was squandered—yes, 
worse than squandered —all because the demon within 

him was crying, Give! Give! Give! 
These dark days were not without their bright spots ; 
‘but from what we saw of him after his last fall, and 
remember the influences that were trying to save him, 
and think to what depths he went, over the prayers and 
entreaties of his friends, we can estimate something of 
his situation before he became associated with temper- 


32 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


ance people, and was left almost to his own destruction. 
We do not mean to give the impression, that those of his 
friends who knew him well and were associated with him 
did not do all they could to assist him. It is but just 
that we should say, that we scarcely know anything in 
regard to the time he was living with his wife, nor have 
we sought to, feeling that it would not be of interest. 
And did we attempt to say anything, we might say 
something that would do injustice to him, and to those 


who are living, who were intimately connected with this — 


time. It was necessary that mention should be made of 
it, as, at the time of his death, the press throughout the 
land made some statements in regard to the matter, 
which were calculated to give a wrong impression. 


Doubtless this period in his life’s history was filled - 


with doubt and misgivings as to all his future, for now 
his wife began to despair of saving him, and to con- 
sider the question of her duty in the matter of a separa- 
tion. We have been told by a gentleman who knew 
Uniac when he had a family and home, that‘he often 
heard his friends remark, that his would indeed be a 
happy family and pleasant home, were it not for his 
intemperate drinking. How often at this day do we 
hear the same remark in regard to homes all around us! 
It is the skeleton in hundreds of families; it is the foun- 
dation of two thirds of the trouble between men and 
women, that result in the breaking-up of domestic hap- 
piness, and home itself. 

The following touching story, told by a wife of a 
drunkard, ought to sink deep into the hearts of all who 
read it. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 33 


“TI was born in the State of Vermont, in a little village 
away up in the mountains. My husband was born near 
my home; we grew up together. I loved him, and he 
seemed to loveme. When we became of age, he pro- 
posed to me, and we were married. I never knew he 
used liquor. I had seen on one or two occasions that he 
appeared to like cider, but so many very good people 
said there was no harm in drinking that mild drink, of 
course [ thought nothing of it. Two years after our mar- 
riage, we went to New York to live. My husband 
entered a store, and we began life in the hope of meeting 
with success; but his love for cider grew into a de- 
sire for something stronger; and it is the old story; he 
went from bad to worse, until position, friends, and every- 
thing was gone. O friends, if you could only see what 
I have seen, or feel what I have felt, as I labored to save 
him I loved, I know you would pity me. He changed, 
O how much I can hardly tell! Once handsome, neat, 
and clean, he became bloated, dirty, and untidy; and 
when the cold winds of winter beat the snow in my face, 
I have wandered up and down the streets of New York, 
trying to find him. But at last relief came. And alone 
with him, as he lay on a heap of straw, in a low dingy 
room, I held his head, as his poor, ruined, wasted life 
ebbed away. And just before he died, consciousness 
came back, and he opened his eyes, and looking up in 
my face, said, — 

** Well, Mary, it’s most over with me; I shall not 
worry and fret you much longer. Iam going, I hope, 
where the weak are not tempted, where I shall find rest 
and friends.’ ” 

3 


34 . UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Here she stopped, for tears choked her utterance. 
After waiting a moment, she proceeded : — 
“TI felt that he grew weaker, his voice also trembled, 
and he spoke with much difficulty; but, thank God, he 
did say, ‘Mary, I have sometimes, in my hours of 
madness, thought of our dear, happy home by the Green 
Mountains, and O, had not this tempter entered it, we 
might have always been as happy as we were then.’ He 
faltered, asked me to kiss him, and his spirit had floated . 
out on to the great sea of eternity; and I, a weak girl, 
stood alone in that great city, with—” And here she 
drew herself up to her full height, while her eyes flashed 
fire, as she exclaimed, “ Yes, with my murdered husband, 
murdered by the rum power of this country. And ever 
since that time, when I have stood above his grave in our 
old chureh-yard, I have vowed to do all in my power to 

crush this evil, and, God helping me, I will do it.” 

How many wives suffer in silence, God only knows; 
and when we call the roll of heroes and heroines of earth, 
let us not forget those noble women who are slowly 
wearing their lives away, in devotion to those to whom 
they have pledged their love. If we do this, we shall 
see that it is not on the battle-field, or the world’s 
highest pinnacles, that we behold the grandest types of 
God’s image; but down deep amid the lowlands of life, 
among its mists and shadows, through the darkness which 
surrounds them, we gaze on the patient, suffering human 
beings, who are dying that those they love may live; 
and when they shall be seen by the light of heaven, their 
grandeur and beauty of soul will fill us with wonder and 
delight. | 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 35 


CHAPTER IV. 


STRUGGLE RAGING — DESPERATE EFFORTS TO REFORM — 
LETTER TO COMPANION — INCIDENTS. 


Tue strugyle with his appetite had now really com- 
menced, and it is due to his manhood and memory that 
we should here record his desperate attempts to rid him- 
self from the power of the demon who seemed to have 
control of his every action, even at this early period. 

We do not desire to leave the impression that there 
were not at this time bright spots in his sky of life, for 
there were months when he would not touch a drop, nor 
that he was different than other young men who drank 
with him. But the insidious approaches and deceptive 
manner by which this enemy sometimes makes his attacks, 
would overthrow him. We will give from his own lips, 
as nearly as possible, one of his struggles, and what led 
to his overthrow. 

One night after going home from one of his drinking 
spells, he awoke with a burning thirst, and got up to 
procure some water, — then went to the window. 

It was a bright moonlight night, and he saw a woman 
with a young man on her arm, endeavoring to persuade 
him to go home. When near his window, the young 
man stoutly refused to go any farther. 

Uniac opened the window, and heard the woman say, 


36 _ UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


* Edward, you are my only son; do go home with me, or 
you will break my heart.” It so affected the man at the 
window, that he closed it, and thought of his own dear 
mother, and of what would be her feelings could she see 
him going on in his mad career; and, dropping on his 
knees, with the pale moon looking down, he prayed God 
for strength to begin once more the struggle to free him- 
self from the slavery of rum. He had a terrible fight 
for weeks, hope came back, and the future looked 
brighter and better than it had for a long time, when one 
evening he was invited to attend a social party, and 
accepted the invitation. While there, when he was feel- 
ing warm from the crowd which was present, a gentle- 
man offered him a glass of wine which was being passed 
round. 

He struggled with his appetite for a moment, and 
refused; when a lady friend, noticing his abstinence, 
took a glass, stepped forward to him, and said, “Mr. 
Uniac, I know you will drink my health.” It would 
have been hard for any young man in that position to 
have said “No”; but for him, with his natural gallantry 
and his gnawing appetite craving it, the struggle was 
over. Wine the victor! the resolve, the man, con- 
quered! The rest is soon told. After one glass he 
drank another. Who can estimate the evil accomplished 
by this simple act? There ought to go up in our land, 
a voice to be heard in every home, crying out for the 
banishment of this destroyer from the social circle. In 
the name of the hundreds and thousands of young men 
who date their ruin from it, and because of the power it 
has to make drinking seem respectable, we demand it! 

Young men who have faced the cannon on the field of 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 37 


battle, have not had courage to say “No” under like cir- 
cumstances.’ Uniac used to tell a story of a man who is 
now in one of our state-prisons, that so well and thrill- 
ingly shows the power of social drinking, that we cannot 
refrain from giving it. A man who had been a drunkard 
for several years, two years before the war, reformed and 
remained true to his pledge. When the call for troops 
came, he enlisted, and served his country faithfully ; and 
at the close of three years, re-enlisted for the war, and 
received a furlough for thirty days, and started for his 
home. He arrived within about a mile of his house, and 
met some old friends; and one of them invited him to 
rest at his house before going home. He reluctantly 
accepted, and while resting there, the lady of the house 
brought in a glass of home-made wine. He of course 
refused, saying that he had not drank anything, and 
would rather be excused. She said, “It is nothing but 
wine of our own make, and would not harm a child.” 
Under her advice he took the fatal cup. It revived a 
slumbering appetite, and from this place he went to a 
rum-shop, and drank to such an extent as to make him 
almost crazy. And, strange to say, he met his wife, whom 
he had not seen for three long years, with a blow, that 
caused her death in a few days; and we have looked 
upon this man working at hard labor, inside the walls of 
a prison which is to be his home for life. This is no 
fancy sketch, but an awful reality. 

The following letter was found among some old papers, 
and shows better than any words or incidents we can 
“present, how hard Uniac struggled years before he 
signed the pledge at Camp Convalescent. We give it in 
full. 


38 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


New York, 18—. 

My Drar Frienp: — You and I have passed through many scenes 
in life together,— some pleasant to remember, and some we would 
gladly forget. 

My head aches, and my hand trembles this morning; while my 
~ heart is very sad. After I left you last night, I managed to get 
home, and went to bed, and fell into a heavy slumber. On waking, I 
found myself very weak and sick, and began to meditate on the way 
we are wasting our lives, throwing away all the grand opportunities 
that are opening up to the young men of this sublime age; and I 
thought I would immediately write, and implore you to commence 
with me, this very night, the fight with our appetite. 


I tell you, my dear fellow, all who love us will help us. God will 


help us also, if we only help ourselves. Now will you meet me this 
evening, say at the sunset hour, and as the god of day sinks to rest, 
let us take each other by the hand, and solemnly promise that hence- 
forth we will be free men. I know the struggle will be a hard one. 
I have tried it, and I have failed; but we will remember “in the 
bright lexicon of youth there is no such word as fail.” Though I 
feel weak physically, I never felt stronger in my purpose to relieve 
myself from this power which has been my life’s bane, and I hope 
you will also feel the importance of taking this step now, before it is 
too late. It will be harder next week, than now. In God’s name, 
let us begin. I have learned to respect and love you; you have 
been one of my dearest friends, and I am anxious for your future 
welfare. I noticed the anxious look on your mother’s face when I 
called for you last night; and, how tenderly did she say, ‘‘ Now do 
come in early, and be very careful where you go, and what you do.” 


‘Do you remember? I hope you will start with me, for it will make 
, * 


me stronger if you begin at the same moment. 
Come around and see me before the hour named, if possible. 
I met our friend M before I began this letter. I told him how 
I felt, and the good man took me by the hand, as tears ran down 
his cheeks, and said, ‘‘God help you carry out your noble resolve. 
You will have my heartfelt prayers.” 
I feel deeply in earnest about this matter, and beg you will un- 
derstand my motive for sending this to you. 
I will close, hoping to see you to-night. 
‘* Dare to do right, 
Dare to be true.” 


Yours, UNIAC. 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 39 


We conclude from this letter, that he had all the time 
a keen realization of his own condition, and what his end 
must be unless he reformed. We can account for his 
repeated attempts to stop in his career, and his repeated 
failures, only in the fact, that while his appetite was 
strong and powerful, he was not formed by nature in a 
way to successfully resist temptations of this character, 
_ for his nature was so social and warm that he would be 
defeated in his purpose before he became aware that he 
had hardly yielded. He would meet, and be introduced 
to some stranger, and, as Mr. Murray says in his letter, 

“would seem to break through his reserve, and take his 
heart by storm.” 

We should remember that at this time his associates 
were men who used liquor freely; and, no matter how 
- much he might resolve and re-resolve, the moment he was 
in their company he fell. | 

It is doubtful if there ever was a man who seemed 
to desire to reform so earnestly, and still did not accom- 
plish it. His life was one continual struggle. Some- 
times, when he had not drank for years, he would come 
to his friends, and tell them he was having a hard fight, 
and want them to help him. 

About the time the letter just referred to was written, 
he lost a friend and companion. We find he refers to 
it as follows: “ A dear friend has been called to his 
account, and by this blow we are all reminded of the 
importance of living and acting aright; not forgetting 
that ‘ life is real, life is earnest, and the grave is not its 
goal.’ How much more my dear departed friend might 
have accomplished had he not wasted so much of his life 


40 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


in drinking. Shall I feel this warning, and stop before it” 


is too late? : 

“Other men have been where I am, and are now 
honored and loved, because they have conquered them- 
selves. I will try! I do not want it said when I am 
_ dead, ‘He might have been a good, useful man, but he 
could not resist his appetite, and died a drunkard.’ I 
will make an effort, and hope I shall succeed! God 
help me!” 

Who can read this letter, and not feel that even at this 
time he was in earnest in the matter of reforming? By 
an extract on a piece of paper, we find that he and the 
young man to whom he wrote, did meet, and began the 

‘struggle. We give it here. “ Well, J. and I have 
started to conquer our enemy. God give us strength to 
persevere!” And again: “One week has passed, and 
I have not touched or tasted intoxicating liquors, thank 
God.” And still again: “O, how awful the struggle! 
My whole system is demanding drink.” This struggle 
did not continue very long, for soon after we read: 
“Gone is my hope, gone is my resolution, gone is my 
manhood. Iam still a slave to my appetite.” 

And there was not much hope that his struggle would 





result in a victory, until circumstances should change ~ 


around him. Again we are called to say, * The struggle 
is going on.” 

In how many hearts is the same kind of a conflict 
raging, all through the land, God only knows! And 
while manhood is in danger of being debased and 
ruined, by being vanquished in the fight, it is the duty of 
those who are strong to help the weak, tempted soldier 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 41 


in life’s battle, by prayers, influence, kind acts, and gen- 
tle words. If you have a flower-garden, you perhaps 
have seen the storm beat down your roses, and cause the 
beautiful little pinks to droop, and hide their faces, 
because of the earth that covers them; and as you have 
looked at the garden, you may have said, “ My flowers are 
ruined”; but with tender hand you have lifted the rose- 
bush, and replaced it, in the spot where it used to cling, 
to some stronger shrub, and with pure water washed the 
faces of the pinks, and rearranged the walks, and have 
gone out in the morning, and, behold! the flowers’ are 
blooming more sweetly than ever before. As you have 
taken in the fragrance, you perhaps have exclaimed: 
_ © Why, the flowers are all the better for the storm, even' 
more beautiful than those that have been protected from 
winds and rain. So in the world, God’s garden, there 
are flowers in the shape of noble men and women, who 
have been beaten down by the storms of temptation and 
sin ; and if, with the tender hands of charity, we lift them 
up, wash off the blots that sin and crime have left, we 
shall behold them blooming with virtues, fairer than many 
who have never felt the terrible storm-cloud of tempta- 
tion beating on their heads. Are the flowers not worth 
saving? Are there not gems hidden deep among the 
lowlands of life? Go, then, into the by-ways, lift up 
and reclaim the fallen, and ye shall not labor in vain, 
for, He who rulest the universe hath said, “ Ye shall have 
your reward.” 


42 : UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


CHAPTER V. 


' DESPAIR OF REFORMING —ENLISTING AS A SOLDIER — 


FIRST MONTHS IN ARMY — THRILLING INCIDENTS, ETC. 


As nearly all the real interest in the life of Uniac gath- 
ers round a period of some four or five years, when he 
was before the public, it will not be necessary to linger 
much longer over the scenes of his New York life or 
early days. Those who saw him in his prime, with his 
eyes flashing and his tongue sending forth eloquent and 
thrilling words, charming the listener, would not care to 
have us paint him in the position he occupied about the 
time the war broke out. Finding no hope for him in 
the struggle with alcohol, his wife having left him because 
of drunkenness, when the rebels fired on our flag he 
said, “I love my adopted country ; I do not want to die 
a drunkard here in the streets of this great city. I will 
go and fight in defence of liberty, and if I fall, shall at 
least have a soldier’s burial.” 

He therefore enlisted for three years, in the 88th Reg- 
iment N. Y. Volunteers, Co. B. As the company was 
stationed away from where any liquor was sold, he 
became sober; and the captain finding him to be intelli- 
gent, and ready to do his duty, appointed him corporal, 
with the promise of rapid promotion if he would abstain 
from liquor. In his diary he says, “I was often pro- 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 43 


moted and as often reduced, from my too great love of | 
the cup.” 

Army life had a tendency to make him reckless, and 
he revelled in crime, being sober only when intoxicating 
liquors were kept from him by army regulations. But 
he has said that some nights when he was walking guard, 
he would stop, and resolve never to touch or taste intox- 
icating liquors again. As he would hear the groans of 
the sick and wounded, the full force of the danger of dying 
a drunkard would come upon him, and almost overwhelm 
him, and he would begin in real earnest the struggle. 
Every day of his life, almost, he made resolutions to 
reform and abandon drinking; but they were soon 
broken. eae 

It may be interesting here to read his record in the 
United States Army: “Hdward H. Uniac, native of Ire- 
land —lawyer. Height, five feet, five inches. Light 
hair — florid complexion —corporal Co. I, 88th New 
York Ivish Brigade; enlisted Aug. 1861. Since trans- 
ferred to Co. B. Reduced to the ranks, for having struck 
an officer while intoxicated.” 

One fact worthy of especial mention here, that whether 
in or out of the army, though he sank to the lowest pur- 
lieus of drunkenness, mixed and joked with its votaries, 
yet he was never known to make a practice of using 
obscene expressions, or take the name of God in vain, 
with profane intent; he was never in the habit of using 
tobacco, and had it not been for this inordinate love of 
liquor, he would doubtless have risen in the army, as he 
did in civil life, when he was free from it. 

For some time before he joined the army he had been 


44 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


drinking desperately, and after he enlisted he was placed 
in quarters where it was almost impossible to get liquor. 
The effect was to bring him near the delirium tremens. 
He had but ten dollars in the world at this time, and this 
he gave for a glass of whiskey, — another proof of the 
power of this appetite! But gradually he overcame this, 
and remained for months doing his duty well and 
promptly. 

In regard to the record of his striking an officer, © 
alluding to it in his diary, he says: “My temper is not 
hasty; what I have done to merit the court-martial, 
I would repeat again on the repetition of the acts that led 
to it. I was court-martialled for committing an act, and 
at the same time applauded for committing it.” From 
conversations had with him on this point, we judge that 
he was partially intoxicated; and a young lieutenant, 
feeling the importance of his shoulder-straps, accosted 
him in a rough, ungentlemanlike manner. Uniac, not 
responding to his remarks, he approached, and giving 
him a push, said, “Stand out of my way, you drunken 
Irishman !” —upon which Uniac turned and struck him 
with the back of his hand across the face, and this affair 
led to the court-martial, which resulted in his being 
reduced to the ranks. There is nothing remarkable or 
worthy of special reference here, regarding his first few 
months in the United States service, except to say that it 
was one continual struggle and defeat of the man in his 
attempts to overcome his appetite. One day he received 
a pass, and visited the hospitals, and while there witnessed 
a sad sight that made a deep impression on his mind. 
Passing through the wards of one of the largest, he was 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 45 


accosted by one of the patients, in a weak voice, who 
requested a glass of water; and after he had drank a few 
drops, holding up the tumbler, said, “ If I had loved this 
emblem of purity better, and strong drink less, my 
system would not have been so wasted and worn as 
it is to-day.” Uniac was deeply interested in what 
the man had said, and requested him, if he felt strong 
enough, to tell him something of his life’s story. The sick 
soldier requested to be raised a little, and said, “Iwas 
born in the State of New York, of a good family. My 
boyhood was passed in peaceful pleasure, until I reached 
the age of seventeen, when I became acquainted with 
some young men who visited drinking saloons; of 
course I indulged with them, and you know what fol- 
lowed. Step by step the appetite grew stronger, until | 
I was bound body and soul, and was a disgrace to 
my friends and myself. The breaking out of the war 
found me wretched, homeless, and almost friendless. I 
enlisted, and the exposures and hardships of camp-life 
were too much for my broken and shattered constitution, 
and I lie here wasting with consumption, brought on and 
aggravated by intoxicating drinks.” 

When he had finished, Uniac felt the man had. been 
telling his own story, with the exception that he was 
yet spared the fatal disease that had hold of this 
man. So he told him something of his own career ; 
and the dying man took his hand in his, and begged of 
him to stop while he had health and life; and together, 
over the goblet of water, they pledged themselves to try 
to abstain from their life’s enemy. 

Uniac has often remarked that this scene came before 


46 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


his eyes in after years when he lifted the cup to his lips. 
It was indeed a touching and feeling incident, and it 
must have made a deep impression. He never saw 
the man again, but took pains to ascertain about him, and 
found that he died, and was buried in the National - 
Cemetery at Arlington. One day after he had signed 
the pledge, in company with a friend, he visited this 
spot, made sacred by the precious dust of thousands of 
the bravest and the best of America’s sons; and as they 
wandered through the paths and among the graves of 
this consecrated ground, scanning with the deepest 
interest the white boards at the head of the mounds, at 
the end of one of the long paths they found the grave 
they sought, with name and date of death inscribed, and 
above that dust they gathered inspiration for the fight 
and warfare in behalf of Truth and Temperance. Who 
that has wandered there, has retraced his steps without 
feeling inspired by his reflective ramblings among the 
mounds and monuments of this patriot’s resting-place ; and 
if the friends of the poor young man who gave the temper- 
ance lesson to Uniac in the hospital ever visit that spot, 
they must feel a glorious satisfaction in the thought that 
a life so nearly wasted as was his, was at last crowned 
with a soldier’s death and burial; for a grateful country 
will annually strew his grave with sweetest flowers in 
memory of his soldier’s life and death. 

The regiment to which Uniac belonged was a fighting 
regiment, and was engaged in some of the most desperate 
battles of the war. They had long, weary marches, 
and sometimes when Uniac had becn trying to be faithful 
to his highest convictions of right, and had abstained 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 47 


from that which had been his greatest curse, it would 
be after one of these exhausting tramps, that he would 
yield, if it were possible to procure drink; and in this 
way passed his first days and months of a soldier’s life, 
marching, tramping, fighting, and struggling. He hada 
large number of correspondents, and was an interesting 
letter-writer. He wrote many letters to young people 
in the vicinity of Boston, encouraging them to labor for 
the soldiers. One of these letters was received by a 
Sunday-school scholar, and at a session of the school the 
letter was read, when it created such an interest that the 
members soon formed a Soldier’s Aid Society, which 
sent comfort and consolation to many of our brave, 
wounded, and dying Boys in Blue. 

In the following letter, he refers to a movement in 
the direction of temperance : — 

“A movement has been started to induce leading offi- 
cers of our army to banish liquor from the camps, but 
it has been done only in a few instances, as the love for 
it is too great to have it generally adopted.” 

Many a vacant chair by our firesides was made thus 
vacant because of blunders committed by men in com- 
mand of our soldiers while under the influence of liquor. 
Hundreds of soldiers will testify to the truth of this 
statement. Who can forget the reports in our news- 
papers, of some disaster to our arms, concluding with 
the remark, “Somebody has blundered”? Who does 
not know the meaning of this? An old soldier, who 
passed through the war in the capacity of aid or orderly, 
reported that a prominent officer who had command of 
a large division, was so much intoxicated on the morning 


48 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


of an important movement against the enemy, that it was 
difficult to understand his directions; and yet this man 
had in his charge the lives of the noblest and dearest of 
our young men. Where can we turn in life, and not see 
the evils that result from the cup? When will our nation 
turn back this tide of desolation and ruin! At least we 
ought to demand that men, who hold in their hands in 
trust the lives of others, whether in the army or in the 
walks of civil life, be compelled to abstain from the use 
of intoxicating liquors. Until this is insisted upon, we 
cannot take a seat in a railroad car, or a passage on a 
steamboat, without the thought coming over us that per- ~ 
haps the-engineer, or some other in a responsible posi- 
tion, may be under the influence of strong drink. In the 
name of hundreds and thousands, slain by men in these 
positions, we demand total abstinence as the rule of their 
lives. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 49 


CHAPTER VI. 
SEPARATION FROM WIFE — FINAL LETTER TO WIFE. 


Durie the first years of his life as a soldier, his wife 
applied for a divorce, and it is necessary, for a fair under- 
standing of his situation, to allude to the fact here. 

The following beautiful, but sad, letter explains itself, 
and was the last one he ever wrote to his wife. 


“ONCE DEAR ONE, taking a view of the past, with its 
various changes and strange vicissitudes, its pleasant pic- 
tures and sad ones too, I am forcibly struck with two 
prominent events, which seem to shape and color my 
past, present, and future. The first was my marriage, 
the consummation of a love which could not have been 
more devoted, sincere, and happy. The other is my 
alienation from my happy and comfortable home, with 
all its tender and social endearments. These two events 
meet me, one to console, the other to sadden me. One to 
build up my hopes and to brighten my future; the other 
to dash down the edifice, leaving me a miserable wreck, 
floating past through the desolate ways of the future. 
A few Christmas eves witnessed the gradual growth and 
full development of the two events. A few Christmas 
eves saw the sunniest hopes that ever glowed in human 


breast chilled with their frosts and buried with their 
4 ' 


50 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


snows, — eves though now silent in the shrouds of the 
past, stil] linger with me, and hourly sweep the sweetest 
music o’er the chords of my memory, — eves that brought 
sunshine to my soul, from the very chambers of their 
icy winters, —eves that will return no more forevey. 
From the eve of 18—, I date the round of dissipation 
that has brought me to my present deplorable situation, 
the consequence of which was a separation from my wife 
and two little ones. Our separation was unlooked for. 
Our marriage was the realization of a golden dream, a 
bright rose from the bud of love; our separation a dark 
reality,— the withering of the rose, the crushing of the 
bud. And thus itis that memory wings the pleasant fea- 
tures of the past, and paints its bitter pictures too, while 
I silently suffer the stings of bitter remorse, and contem- 
plate the cause of all my difficulty. This I do in justifi- 
cation to myself, for I cannot be justified before the 
world. It knows not the secrets of my heart, and never 
will. | 

“I know I would have acted a more honorable, manly 
part, had I walked in a different sphere; but day after | 
day I was met by companions whose soul centred in 
the wine-cup. 

“{ breathed their baneful influence until I fell, and 
when fallen, those who should have counselled, spurned 
me, and I resorted to rum to hide my embarrassment 
and shame. Jt will be urged that that was a weakness, 
and serve but to intensify the difficulty. Granted, but 
in so doing, we have to look at the drunkard as a bond- 
man; there is not a free fibre in his whole frame; he is 
the veriest slave to the basest appetite, nor can effort 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 51 


of the will, unaided, shake off the fetters that bind him 
hand and foot, soul and body, all are the slaves of this 
devouring beverage. We are prone to form too hasty 
conclusions respecting the drunkard, we do not give due 
weight to his infirmities, but rather expect him to act as 
_ if he was wholly under his own will. He is a man with 
an immortal spirit that will live as long as yours, one 
that Christ died to save. . . . I will not weary you. 
I seek not to justify myself. Friends fled from me; 
my path was a grim waste, strewn with the debris of 
family and friends; my days were spent in drinking and 
hoping for the night. But all is past now; I occupy 
the lowest strata of humanity, not a friend to cheer me. 
Even my little daughter will know me but by reputa- 
tion, and that will make her blush. Oh! the sound of 
a drunken father’s name! Yet amid all this, I some- 
times see a brighter future. It is my guardian angel 
that bids me hope on, while the demon grimly grins 
despair. With a firm reliance upon the God of all, that 
I am but fulfilling my destiny, dark and mysterious 
though it be, I pray that my little one will find in him 
a father, and that she from whom I am now separated 
forever, will find in him a husband upon whose arm she 
may serenely rest, and from whose counsels she may 
gather wisdom. Yes, M , you and I will never meet 
on earth again; still, in my soul, your name and the 
memory of the past will be sacredly enshrined.” 

He then speaks of his child, and her future, and seems 
to be anxious to live in such a manner as not to disgrace 
her. We have given the above extracts, not to attempt 
to justify or palliate his course, but to show that he had 





52 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


a keen realization, and, like all men similarly situated, 
felt at times as though he was neglected by those whom 
he had reckoned as friends. It is not our purpose to 
say a single word that shall open or awaken anything 
that lies in the past, whereby the memory of the dead 
shall be tainted, or the fair name of the living brought 
into question. The above letter must have been writ- 
ten after the final separation had taken place. There is 
a mingling of hope and despair, light and shade, which 
gives a faint conception of the struggle in which this 
man was engaged. The hope that he might redeem 
something that he had lost seemed at times to inspire 
him. But the veil of sacred love and domestic happi- 
ness should not be lifted for us to pry into the motives 
of either party interested in this affair. | 

Who can read this sad and tender letter without a 
pang! As he refers to the resolves he made to lead a 
different life, and to the evil influence of bad compan- 
ions causing him to break them, thus carrying misery 
and sorrow to a happy home, who does not feel the im- 
portance of good and pure surroundings for men of this 
character ?— for circumstances do make or unmake a 
man who is by nature susceptible to every influence that 
comes in contact. Had this man at this time been en- - 
circled by the influence of Christian associations, what 
might he not have accomplished under God? Let us . 
then purify our cities and towns, by the spreading of 
correct principles, and many who now stumble will 
walk erect. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 53° 


CHAPTER VII. 


FIGHTING — WOUNDED — TAKEN PRISONER—LIFE IN 
PRISON, ETC. 


Ami the din of battle, and novelty of camp life, we 
find Uniac, still struggling, now with success, and anon 
with defeat. He was promoted often, and in his own 
words, as quoted before, “as often reduced, for having 
too deeply loved my gin.” He was in. general battles 
at Fair Oaks, Chickahominy, Savage Station, White Oak 
Swamp, Gaines’ Hill, Bailey’s Cross Roads, White House, 
Malvern Hill, Antietam, Bull Run, Fredericksburg, 
Chancellorville,. etc. 

He was wounded at Warrington, and afterwards at 
Chancellorville, severely, in the third day of the fight. 

This occurred by a charge from the 43d Georgia Regi- 
ment. He was entirely helpless, being both wounded 
and paralyzed, and in the Adjutant’s report was set 


~~ down as killed. His comrades left him on the field for 


dead, and the rebels began to search for his effects. In 
so doing they discovered a Masonic emblem on his 
coat, and the lieutenant in command ordered them to 
desist. 

In a letter he says : — 

“He made a close, personal examination of me, and 
discovered life in me, after which he had me removed to 


54 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


a place of safety, I was conscious of all that was trans- 
piring around me, but could not move nor articulate a 
single sound. After I became well enough to be moved, 
I was sent to Richmond as a prisoner.” 

His story of his sufferings while in the hands of the 
rebels, is familiar to all that are interested in him, and 
are thrillingly interesting. When he went to Richmond, 
he weighed one hundred and thirty-eight pounds, and 
when he was released, his weight was seventy-eight 
pounds. In a letter to a friend, he says : — | 

* What I suffered cannot be told, and if told, it would — 
be hard to believe. I lived in the very shadow of 
starvation.” 

But had the struggle between the man and his appetite 
ceased, among all these changing scenes? Alas, no! It 
was raging with all of its force and power; and to show 
how strong it was, on one occasion he gave his only vest 
and cap to the guard for a-glass of whiskey. 

Of course his incarceration necessitated an abstinence, 
which, coming so suddenly, brought on an attack of 
delirium tremens, and a fit of sickness, which reduced 
him as stated. We do not know as his prison life 
differed from that of hundreds and thousands of our 
brave men, suffering and dying onevery hand. One of 
the saddest incidents of breaking a poor fellow’s heart 
by disappointment, was related by a lieutenant who was 
in the prison at the time. For some reason, the officer 
in command seemed to have a desire to avenge himself 
on a young officer, and promised him his discharge on a 
certain day. With heart full of hope, he was marched 
out with the rest of the prisoners, who were to be dis- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 55D 


charged, and while all were permitted to go, he was sent 
back to prison, and another day appointed for his dis- 
charge. He wrote on the prison walls, “ Disappointed to- 
day, to be discharged next week”; and so the cruel men 
led him out week‘ after week, and as often disappointed 
him; and he kept writing on the wall, “ Disappointed. 
To be exchanged”; until he sickened, grew fainter, and 
_ the writing on the wall was less bold, and one morning 
he was missed, and his fellow-prisoners saw, written 
above all he had written, in a bolder hand, these words, 
“The noble fellow is exchanged at last; earth for 
Heaven.” Such was one of the many ways devised by 
the wicked ingenuity of the enemies of our country, to 
torture- and make suffer, in every conceivable way, 
men who had fought and suffered for their flag and 
country. 

‘Well may a grateful country annually, with solemn 
music, march to the sacred places where sleep the brave, 
and strew their resting-places with sweetest flowers, 
emblematic of purity, gratitude, and patriotism; and 
shall not the name of Uniac be divested of much of the 
evil that-hung around it during the struggling days with 
the demon intemperance, from the fact that he was a sol- 
dier, suffered, and almost starved, for our country and 
its liberties ? 

An incident occurred during Uniac’s prison life, 
which shows the spirit of our soldiers under the most 
trying difficulties. It was Fourth of July morning, and 
the prisoners felt patriotic, and resolved to celebrate it 
as best they might. Uniac was selected to deliver 
che oration, and had proceeded as far as to say, that 


56 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, : 


before another Fourth of July rolled around, the rebel- 
lion would be crushed, and the tramp, tramp of the 
army unlock their prison door, when he was seized by 
the guard, and and amidst the chorus of “ Hail Colum- 
bia” by the whole crowd, carried to a cell in the lower 
part of the prison. 

Should this prison life, when he comes out of it, also 
make him free from the slavery of alcohol, it will 
indeed be for his temporal and everlasting welfare. 

The terrible scenes he witnessed made a deep impres- 
sion on his mind. 

He saw a brave comrade, who had gone forth under the 
same flag, had braved the same dangers, shot down by 
the guard, for reaching over the “dead line,” so called, 
for a small piece of food; and as he held him in his 
arms before he died, he looked up into his eyes, and said, 
“YT have kept the pledge, and die in the faith of my 
Maker.” These dying words of a comrade who had 
been through so many scenes of dissipation with him, 
and had reformed and kept his pledge, and died in the 
faith of Christ, did much towards Uniac’s reformation 
in after days. 

One day, while in prison, he made an attempt to bribe 
the guard, and thereby obtain a glass of liquor. He had 
a valuable gold ring that had been given him by a sol- 
dier just before he died; and finding he would not pro- 
cure the drink in any other way, had promised the 
guard that if he would procure him a single glass, he 
would give him the last five dollars in his possession, 
together with the ring. The rebel guard said he would 
try and get it to him about dark; and all that day, as he 


* STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 57. 


waited in anticipation of that for which his whole soul 
and body seemed to burn, his head began to ache vio- 
lently. Before the time came for the soldier to bring 
him drink, he was burning up with a fever, and being 
unconscious, was taken to a place called a hospital, but 
in reality a spot of low, damp ground, with here and 
there, above the beds of our sick and dying men, torn 
and ragged canvas, not enough to shelter them from the 
burning rays of the sun, or the pitiless storm. How 
long he was unconscious he did not know, but when he 
came to awake, he found the sick and dying all around 
him; and the power of his appetite was so strong, even 
weak as he was, that the first thing he thought of was 
the promise of the guard. Looking down at his hands, 
he found the ring gone. The guard had stolen it from 
him while he slept. 

“One night,” he said, “as I laid looking up to the 
‘stars, wishing for release even by death, from this dread- 
ful place, the soldier who lay nearest me, called out, 
*Comrade, I feel worse ; I want some water, my mouth 
is burning up. O! for one drop to cool my parched 
lips!’” No one was near to help this poor suffering fel- 
low, and he cried till he began to wander in his mind; 
and Uniac said it was enough to melt the heart of the 
hardest, to hear him talk of his home. Now he would be 
talking with his mother, and then with his sister; his 
ery grew fainter and fainter; and when the morning 
dawned, another brave, starved — yes, worse than starved 
— soldier was dead, and another “ vacant chair” stood by 
some fireside, where those who loved him waited in vain 
for him to come “ marching home again.” Has the story 


58 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


of the suffering of the boys in blue been overstated ? 


We may forgive the men who caused the war, but while 


patriotism burns on the altar of American hearts, we 
cannot forget the terrible wrongs done to the bravest and 
best of our young men. 

One other instance will show how much was endured 
by those brave men, to keep from starving. A young 
man had been sick and was recovering, and was very 
weak from the need of proper food. He felt the want 
of it so much, that he volunteered to go and help bring 
water to wash the clothes of the rebel officers. The dis- 
tance he had to carry the water was so great, that he 
struggled and trembled every step he took; but he was 
inspired with the thought that a good meal was promised 
those who would do this work. He had brought one 

pailful, had got the second, and started to return with it, 
~ but was not strong enough, and stopped to rest a moment, 
when he was ordered to move on by the guard; but not 
being able to obey promptly, was shot on the spot by 
the man in charge of the squad. 

It is difficult to believe it possible for men professing 
to-be Christians, and living in the light of this glorious 
age, to be so cruel and heartless; but we have had too 
much evidence from eye-witnesses, yes, from those who 
felt the worst that has been told, to doubt. it for a single 
moment. Many of these scenes Uniac saw and felt, and 
he resolved if he came out of this living tomb alive, to 
— tell to the people of the North the horrors of the rebel- 
lion. This promise he kept, and during the presidential 
campaign of 1864, did great service for the Union, by 
telling the voters what the soldiers had suffered, and 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 59 


appealed to them to stand by them and the government, 
in its effort to crush out and punish those men, who had 
insulted the flag and murdered their brothers. 

It is not necessary to dwell much longer on what 
he did and saw at these prisons. Suffice it to say, that 
he here gathered an experience which in after life was 
of service to him and the cause of the Union. 

In the following he gives us his feelings and struggles. 
*O, my dear friend, I cannot begin to express on paper, 
or with the tongue, the awful suffering of the rebel 
prisons. When I think how much God permitted me to 
pass through, and to escape at last with my life, I feel 
to praise and thank His holy name. And then it seems 
hardly possible, that amid all the suffering I never lost 
my appetite or desire for liquor. I remember I used to 
have days when it would seem as though I would give 
my right arm for a glass of whiskey. I have walked my 
prison floor like a caged tiger. 

“QO, sir! my struggle was indeed fearful. And then, 
when by sickness I was so much reduced that I was 
hardly able to lift my head from the pillow, still I would 
often pant for my beverage. My struggle is fearful, and 
I do net feel that in any position I am safe.” 

What. a testimony is this letter in favor of the princi- 
ple of total abstinence; for here was a man, while in 
prison, while sick, while sober, in all kinds of the most 
trying circumstances, never free from the appetite he had 
formed for strong drink. Let this man who speaks from 
bitter experience be heeded and listened to by all who 
are in danger of forming the accursed habit. 

Who can afford to run the risk of placing himself 


60 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


under the power of such a tyrant as a depraved appetite 
becomes? Were there no other instance in all history 
but this story of Uniac’s struggle, the bare possibility of 
becoming like this ought to be enough to prevent any 
man who values his manhood and freedom from ever 
| “touching or tasting” that which may make him a slave 
of the meanest kind. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 61 


CHAPTER VIII. 


RELEASE FROM PRISON — SIGNING THE PLEDGE — LETTER 
FROM JOHN B. GOUGH—- WORK IN THE CHRISTIAN 
COMMISSION — THRILLING LETTERS FROM THE BATTLE- 
FIELD, ETC. 


AFTER remaining in prison six months, he was ex- 
changed, and was in a very weak condition, only weigh- 
ing about eighty pounds. He said, “As weak as I was, 
when we caught sight of the old flag, I joined with my 
comrades in giving it three hearty cheers.” He was sent 
to “Camp Distribution,” to remain there until he should 
become strong enough to join his regiment. Soon after 
coming to this place, he began a correspondence with 
Mr. W Keith’s family, of Boston, and it will be 
seen from what follows, that it resulted in a dear friend- 
ship, lasting till his death. Without giving further inci- 
dents of some of his desperate drinking spells, we will 
proceed to speak of what must be more pleasant to the 
reader, and that is his signing the pledge. Through the 
kindness of John B. Gough, Esq., we are enabled to give 
this in Mr. Gough’s own language. 





“My Duar Sir, — On the 16th of January, 1864, I was 
invited by Mr. Ballantyne and other gentlemen of Wash- 
ington, to deliver two addresses to the soldiers at Camp 
Distribution. During the morning lecture, I noticed a 


62 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


man seated directly in front of me, whose eyes were 
intently fixed on me; not a smile passed over his face, 
but he had an earnest look that attracted me to him. 
His hair was matted, a dirty rag was bound about his 
head, his eye was blood-shot, his face bloated, and his 
whole appearance spoke of utter neglect. Being inter- 
ested in his apparent abandonment, I inquired of an 
officer who he was. He said, he is the worst man in the 
company and the most brilliant, but is so given to intemper- 
ance, that nothing but a miracle can save him. In the 
afternoon he was present in the same place and the same 
condition, and as earnest in his attention as before. At 
the close of my speech, the soldiers were invited to sign 
the pledge; he came forward and affixed his name. 

“My wife was standing near, and offering her hand to 
him, said, ‘God help you to keep it.’ He replied, 
‘Thank you, madam, I will remember that.’ 

“TI spoke a few words of encouragement, shook hands 
with him, and saw him no more till nine months after, 
when, on the occasion of a lecture in Philadelphia, Mr. 
George H. Stewart said to me, ‘There is a friend of 
yours waiting to see you in the committee room.’ Uniac, 
not the Uniac of a few months back, but Uniac the man, 
Uniac the gentleman, grasped me with both hands. Our 
meeting was very delightful to me; we had quite a talk, 
and I was touched by his evident manifestation of affec- | 
tion. 

“Some time after, he was an inmate of my family for 
about a week, and we all became much attached to him. 

“I saw him but seldom, but we always met as dear 
friends. | 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 63 


“TJ can hardly tell you how shocked I was when the 
news came to us, ‘Uniac has fallen.” You and many of 
his friends in Boston know better than I his mighty 
struggles, and their efforts to save him. I send you 
three letters, which you may use as you please.” 

We have given all Mr. Gough wrote under this head, 
as we could not well divide the part that refers to his 
signing the pledge, and that which speaks of his fall. 

Mr. Uniac always spoke of Mr. Gough as one of 
his dearest friends, and in his hour of sorest need there 
was no one who did more for him than he under whose 
influence he signed the pledge. Uniac used often to 
allude to the hour when he sat listening to the eloquent 
and thrilling words at|Camp Distribution; he said, when 
he heard that Mr. Gough was to speak to the soldiers, 
the thought flashed across. his mind, “Perhaps I may 
be assisted in my struggle with my appetite, if I attend.” 
_He was in the terrible condition described above; and 
as he went towards the place where the meeting was to 
be held, he met a squad of soldiers, and one of them 
jeeringly remarked, “There goes a good subject for 
Gough’s lecture.” These words cut Uniac to the quick, 

and he thought to himself, “Is it possible? Have I 
_ sunk so low in the scale of humanity, as to be pointed 
at by my companions in crime? By God’s help, I will 
try to be a man once more.” 

The morning speech gave him much to think of; and 
among the many good words spoken, he said, while look- 
ing intently at the speaker, he seemed to catch his eye. 
Gough was in the midst of one of his most powerful 
appeals, when, pointing his finger almost directly at 


64 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Uniac, he said, “You can be a man; you have an 
immortal spirit beating in your bosom, which must live © 
forever. Will you try? God will help you, good angels 
will help you, the prayers of God’s people will help you, 
and you will be successful in the struggle.” These words 
thrilled him, and the sun of hope shone as he had not 
seen it for months; and in the afternoon, when he had 
put his name to the pledge, and turned to come away, 
and heard the words, “God help you to keep it,” spoken 
by Mrs. Gough, he felt strong in his purpose to try, and 
he began the contest in real earnest; but how terrible - 
the fight, God, and those who have passed through some 
such experience, only know. 

We give a few extracts from his diary written at this 
time. 

“1864, January 19th. Took the pledge. 

“20th. Well, another day has passed over my head, 
and I feel that it has but added just so much strength to 
my resolution to keep my pledge inviolate against all 
influences from without or within. 

“21st. Still another day added to the calendar of my 
sober life, and O! how much I need each day, for how 
unevenly cast are the balance sheets of my life! Eleven 
of my best years spent in drunken dissipation ! | 

“22d. What a frail thing is human nature after all! 
How weak and helpless when left alone. How fruitless 
in the hour of adversity. How prone to call on friends 
for aid and counsel, when they, under similar circum- 
stances, are quite as frailas we. How seldom we apply 
to the proper source of peace, for that sweet rest which 
Christ alone can give! Why is it that I have lived so 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 69 


Jong, and. never realized this fact until the last few 
days? 

“Why have I overlooked so beautiful a truth? Had I 
_ believed it sooner, what a world of misery it would have 


_. saved me, as I struggled against the tide of fate that 


seemed to have directed its whole force against me. It 
would have soothed me in my hours of solitary anguish. 
But those days are passed, and I am spared to partake of 
the future, with all its sunny hopes, in the love of my 
Redeemer and my God. 

“26th. ‘The light of the wicked shall be put out.’ 
The truth of this text I know and can verify. I have 
walked for years in darkness, without one single ray to 
light my pathway of sin and crime. There was a time 
when I walked in the light, when the songs of birds were 
hymns of praise, and the winds sighed the love and great- 
ness of God. Mine was then the peaceful path of inno- 
cent childhood. I had a mother to direct me into the 
paths of piety. Ihada Christian father, and every Sun- 
day found me at the foot of the altar, filling up my young 
soul with divine truth and love. My light shone then; 
my hopes bounded from each crag of life into a smooth 
and lovely plain, and frisked and frolicked like an un- 
caged bird on a bough of the blooming orange-tree ; my 
faith looked ever aloft, and beheld with unerring cer- 
tainty a radiant home awaiting me, in the cloudless pres- 
ence of my God. 

“But how sad the change! Left alone at fifteen, I 
soon fell into the ways and wickedness of the world. I 
followed its luring phantoms until my light was extin- 
guished, and I groped amid the dark debris, to find my 
way only to places of still deeper darkness. 

o 


66 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“In vain I teased philosophy; in vain I sought reason 
to restore me to the happy frame of mind that I had once 
experienced. ‘They led me from dream to dream, each 
becoming the more vague, the more I resolved it. The 
present was dark indeed; the future looked no brighter. — 
Now came in upon me Doubt, with her twin companion, 
Believe-nothing, and both took full possession of my 
soul, and froze it with their icy touch. The earth was 
silent ; she did not speak to me through the little flower 
as she had of yore. 

“The trees were dumb. Birds sang the song of de- 
spair, and each root and fibre of the gnarled forest trees 
spoke to me only of wreck and woe.” 

Jn other extracts and letters, we shall see that he had 
no sooner placed his feet firmly on the rock of temper- 
ance, than he began to feel the importance of doing all 
in his power to save those friends and companions around 
him, who were in danger from the same cause that had 
bound him for so many years. It is a good test of the 
sincerity of a converted man to see him anxious for the 
welfare of others. 

We now find him a changed man, well-dressed, clean, 
good-looking, polite, and hopeful. But afew weeks ago, 
and he was in the condition in which Gough found him. 
Ol how much it will do fora man to control a depraved 
appetite. Now Uniac is on the threshold of a new life, 
with new hopes and resolves, but the battle is not 
ended. No! it has just begun with real firmness. And 
how hard must he fight for his virtue and manhood! 
How many times will he find the enemy almost too strong 
for him to stand up against ! 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 67 


It will be only by faith in God, and a determined pur- 
pose, that he will be able to conquer in this war. 

Soon after signing the pledge, he labored in the work 
of the Christian Commission. And the gentlemen who 
were with him in this ficld of labor bear testimony to the 
transformation he had undergone, and to his fidelity and 
the desire to help the suffering wherever he could find 
them. Mr. Geo. H. Stewart of Philadelphia, well known 
in connection with this Commission, who was one of his 
kindest and best friends at this time, speaks in the high- 
est terms of the work Uniac did, especially of his labors 
for the victims of intemperance. He worked night and 
day, often saying, “ How much strength do I get in try- 
ing to help some poor fellow to stand.” He continued 
to follow the army, fighting when able, or detailed to 
work with the Commission, in the care of the wounded. 

The following beautifully descriptive letters were 
written to friends in the vicinity of Boston : — 

“We took up quarters here yesterday morning, and 
right glad were we to have some time for rest in pros- 
pect. 

“Our march has been very severe, and several of our 
party have given out; indeed, out of the original ten who 
started, three only remain of it for active service; 
namely, Mr. Chase, Mr. Snow of Andover, and myself. 

“ But if the marching was severe, the glory was really 
compensating. 

“Imagine yourself walking one whole day and night 
without sleep or rest, except sufficient time to prepare 
coffee and hard tack. Then you have about five hours 
sleep, and you are marched thirty miles again; when you 


68 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


are brought to a sudden stand by the booming of cannon, 
and the quick crash of musketry. 

“Time is momentous. Its pendulum at each stroke 
ticks out the life from some patriot’s breast, and shell 
and shot punctuates his fall. You forget the last weary 
march, you hold your breath in awful agony. The noise 
grows louder and louder: from the lines of the enemy 
may be heard the shouts of victory. Your lines are 
broken, and the cavalry are flying through the woods in 
all directions, from the well-directed fire of a superior 
(in numbers) force. __ 

“The day is lost, and your brave have fallen in vain. 
You begin to feel the effects of your march now, you are 
foot-sore, and, worse, you are heart-sore indeed. 

* Suddenly a wild cheer bursts in from the left, followed 
by a wilder roll of musketry. You dash through the 
woods, your heart tells you that the cheer is friendly to 
your cause. 

“?’T is the 5th and 24th corps in hot pursuit of the 
rebs. You press on, and in a few hours you see the 
American flag, planted in an open field, and the confed- 
erate rag dipping obedience to it. Are you heart-sore 
now? Louder are the foe. Grant holds their lives in 
the silence of the moment. In that well-charged three 
hundred and eighty pieces of cannon is certain death to 


every man, unless they surrender to our victorious army 


to-day, and complete that surrender before four o’clock, 
p. M. Lee and Johnson, Gordon and Picket, Longstreet 
and Ewell, ay, the whole army of Virginia are here, and * 
what is better, they are also helpless. 

“QO! I would not have missed this sight for all the 


STRUGGLE, AND. FALL. 69 


sights that I have ever seen. I have passed over some 
very delightful country. Many of the trees bear beautiful 
blossoms, and every species of the violet blooms here to 
perfection. | | 

“T enclose you a few stems and leaves, gathered on the 
last battle-field, and where the treaty was consummated. 

“I have not heard from any of my correspondents for 
the last two weeks. I have been cut loose from civili- 
zation during that time, but I am in the hopes of reach- 
ing City Point in a few days.” 

The following was written after he had smoothed 
the dying brow of a soldier who spoke of home, and is 
touchingly beautiful : — 

“There is a sunshine in the very word home. When 
the heart is sad, when its silent portals are closed to 
pleasure from without or from within, the sweet word 
home will melt the seal and admit the sunshine. 

“ Why has home so many endearments, so many sacred 
charms, so many tender remembrances found in no other 
place? It is because the heart’s purest tendrils are 
linked around it, and the soul’s sweetest interests are 
blended with those who constitute it and make it, and 
give it its endearing name. 

_“God intended that home should be a hallowed spot, 
a type of the place of eternal rest. ‘Home is where 
the heart is.’ Hearts are dust, but while they beat they 
have hopes and loves. Those hopes and loves, while the 
heart beats, should encircle the home; and when the 
heart beats not, should go up to the home built by 
the father’s hands. 


‘Hearts are dust, heart’s loves remains, 
Heart’s loves, will meet thee again.’ 


70 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“If the spirits of the loved dead have any share in the 
cares and concerns of those who were dear to them in 
this brief life, how joyful they must feel when they sce 
them bending their feet in the ways of God, and leading 
lives that will secure them an inheritance and a crown. 

“Let bright hopes be yours. Make each hope a 
jewel; let your daily labor brighten them. Set them in 
a prayerful heart. God will gather them up at last, 
re-set them, and invest them with celestial brilliancy. 

“J will try to meet you and greet you when you wear 
your crown.” 

“On Friday night I spoke at Warren Station, where I 
remained that night. 

“ At half-past three in the morning I was aroused by 
the sound of battle. 

“TT rode to the scene of action and back to Humphrey’s 
Station, which is the nearest R. R. Station to this 
C. C. Station, from which I am now addressing you. 
When I arrived, all was quiet, and continued so until 
one P. M., when the firing began slowly on the left of 
the 2d corps. 

“Tt developed itself gradually until about three, when 
the whole line in front of the 2d corps opened with 
fearful rapidity, and so continued until half-past seven 
P. M., when it ceased at once on both sides as if by 
mutual consent. I stood under the fire all day, indeed 
so did all of our delegates, and many a wounded soldier 
was relieved by us. 

“When the firing had ceased, we advanced over the 
breastworks, and went out among the dead and wounded 
who lay on the field uncared for. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 71 


“The first person I came across was a Capt. Smith, 
of Co. D, 64th N. Y. He was shot through the knee, 
and died from the loss of blood. I cut a lock of his hair, 
registered his name, took charge of his few effects, and 
pushed forwards. During this time I am accompanied 
by Dr. Patterson of Philadelphia, whose heart seems 
deeply moved by the solemnity of the scene. He will 
write to the captain’s family. 

“YT next met a little boy. He belongs to the 16th Mich- 
igan. He dies while [am rendering him all the assist- 
ance I can. 

“Many and sad were the scenes I witnessed. 

“TI returned towards the field hospital, which was in a 
farm-house that in the morning was held by the rebels. 
On my way I met Generals Miles and Bartlett. I gave 
them some refreshment, which they sadly needed. Miles 
has a boy twelve years of age on his staff. He ranks a 
second lieutenant. He knows no danger. 

“The loss in the 5th corps has been small. In fact our 
total loss is small, considering the heavy fighting, but the 
wounded are very badly wounded indeed. Several men 
are shot right through the stomach and breast. Their 
suffering is fearful. Death to them would be a welcome 


' messenger. 


*Crty Point, Va. 


“ By the caption of my letter you see where Tam. At 
noon to-day I leave for Hatch’s Run. This trip may 
not have been a prudent one, as weak as I am, but I hope 
it may prove profitable. There are reasons why I should 
come, however. Among them, none so pungent as the 


72 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


fact that the army may soon move, and I felt compelled — 
to address them for a short time, before they broke up 
their winter quarters. I will not remain long, however, 
and as soon as I return I am off for Boston. 

“This struggle between love of friends, and duty to 
God, is often desperate ; but duty to God should prevail. 

“{ reached Washington on the eve of the 3d, and wit- 
nessed the President’s Inauguration. There was nothing 
to prevent it from being the greatest scene ever witnessed 
in this country, except the speech of Johnson, the vice- 
president elect. It was said that he was drunk. His 
speech gave one reason to believe it. 

“T left Washington on the 8th, and reached here yes- 
terday, at half-past two p. mM. The scenery of the Poto- 
mac cannot compare with the Delaware or Hudson. The 
James, however, is so pregnant with historic interest, so 
woven with the struggles through which the nation is 
passing, and from which, like Crisites from the blood of | 
Medusa, it will emerge into a golden life. 

©There stand the ruins of Jamestown, the oldest set- 
tlement of Virginia; and there, in the centre of its 
scarcely pereeptible ruins, a small pillar; it is the corner 
of the church where Pocahontas was baptized. O! what 
fearful work war has done along the banks of this river, 
as well as through the whole State. The stripes laid 
along the sun-tipped hills, and the scars which mar her / 
pleasant vales, will remain there to remind many genera- 
tions of the utter madness of secession. 

“The punishment inflicted on this State has been dread- 
ful, — retributive, but just. Her King Cotton, with his 
robes of human slavery, has lost his crown and sceptre 


* 
STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 13 


forever, and the black man, the dusky jewel chained to 
_ his crown, has been torn from it, and is now being bright- 
ened and recut, by the lapidaries of the gospel, to be 
placed henceforth and forever in the diadem of Jesus. 

“Great, very great are the works of the Lord. 

“You may hear the question often asked, ‘Why don’t 
Grant move?’ For the simple reason that it is wholly 
impossible. This country is in a dreadful condition ; the . 
ambulances and train wheels are up to the axles in mud. 

“This whole country is familiar to me. I stood upon 
the very spot, last evening, where the rebels laid me, 
previous to delivering me to the Union forces, at the time 
of my parole. 

“But O whata change! Then the fields were green, 
and the trees interlaced each other above the long avenue 
leading to the wharf; and as I lay helpless then, even 
in my thraldom I could enjoy a kiss from the red lips of 
the sun, as they trembled through the leaves; and yet 
I love the change, though the whole face of nature wears 
adismal shade, and the sun is hid in clouds, while now 
and then he wreaks his vengeance on said clouds,’ 
by melting them into copious showers. I love the 
change, because the banner that I have sworn to defend 
floats here unmolested, and brightens into liberty the 
darkest clouds. 

* Will you remember me in sweet sidnete to all, and 
pray for me very often; and believe me that my heart 
and affections are with you all, at. all times.” s 

If this man had been touched by some magic wand, 
and in an instant transformed into a new being, he could 
not have appeared more changed than these letters show 


74 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


him to be. Not only has the outer man undergone a 
transformation, but his heart has been baptized with new 
purity and heavenly love. His victory over his appe- 
tite has inscribed manhood on his brow, and as a servant 
of God he has gone into the harvest-field to labor. 

If on every street corner there was not temptation 
held out to him, he might walk unharmed through all his 
future ; but while our streets echo to the voice of dissi- 
pation, and the very air is pregnant with the intoxicating 
element, hope for the safety of this man, and men like 
him, is faint. Which shall the law protect, our homes 
and brothers, or the rum traffic ? 

This is a question of profound interest to this age, and 
we must meet it, and settle the right, or our nation will 
be a nation of helpless drunkards. “I would give half 
‘of my princely fortune,” says a merchant of New York, 
“if I had the power to pass a liquor-shop.” 

“O, my God, give me strength of will and purpose to 
go from my work to my home, without entering a rum- 
shop,” says a poor weak mechanic on his bended knees, 
as great beads of sweat stand out on his forehead. And 
so are hundreds, from burdened hearts, crying to-day. 
What is there left for us to do for these men? Nothing 
but by the strong arm of the law to sweep from their 
path these pitfalls; and God hasten the day when the 
people of our country shall awake to this duty, and by 
the logic of votes, convince those upon whom every 
other argument has failed. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 75 


CHAPTER IX. 


DESPERATE STRUGGLE WITH APPETITE — THRILLING 
STORY. 


Untac still stands, for now we find him accepting in- 
vitations to speak for temperance, and thus gaining 
strength to resist the temptations that beset him on 
every side, in and around Washington. In his diary we 
find, “Jan. 29,” the following: “Ispoke at the Mar- 
shall House in Alexandria, and afterwards sat down to a 
sumptuous supper. We had a large party, and some 
very distinguished men, —among them Senator Mac- 
Dougall, of California. Liquor flowed freely, but thank 
God I came from that room the victor over my appetite. 
My sky of life grows brighter, the light is shining all 
the time. I now see the silver lining to the clouds 
through which I have passed; my life shall be devoted 
to God: and humanity.” At this time however, there 
would be periods when it would seem as though he must 
yield, — and he would do all in his power to stand. He 
would often take long walks, and try to find something 
to divert his mind, and change-the current of his thought. 

One evening he was in the city of Washington, 
still fighting with his old enemy, debating whether to 
yield or not. He was still a soldier, and having a pass 
from his comrades, he wandered over the National Ceme- 


76 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


tery in Arlington, saying to himself, perhaps it will help 
me to take a reflective wandering among the mounds 
and monuments of this consecrated spot, where sleep so 
many of the brave who fell fighting for flag and country. 

He walked through the avenue regularly laid out, on 


either side of which rises the plain slab upon which is 


inscribed the name and regiment of the buried soldier ; 
surely a place to gain inspiration for the battles of life. 
Near the end of one of the longest avenues, he stopped ~ 
beside a grave that had been recently strewn with sweet- 
est flowers; everything about it looked as though some 
loving hand had carefully and tenderly beautified it. On 
the plain white board, written by a fair Aa was the 
following : — 

“Sleep, noble heart! for when thou wast among us, or 
on the battle-plain, thou didst contend and fight, how 
hard none but God and you can tell; but you died, thank 
God, victor over thy terrible enemy, rum; and one that 
loves thec, records it as the grandest epitaph that can be 
inscribed above thy resting-place.” And beneath this 
the lady had signed her name. 

He said, as he read these touching words, the tears 
ran down his cheeks, and he returned to Washington a 
stronger man, resolving to fight and conquer as had the 
noble fellow of whom he had just read; but alas, he did 
not know the strength of the enemy with which he had to 
deal. ; 

He thought much of the inscription he had read, and 
resolved to write to the lady, and tell her his story, and 
ask her more of the man, above whose grave he had stood 
at Arlington. He wrote, and after waiting several weeks, 
received the following sad but beautiful letter. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. el 


WISCONSIN, ——, 18—. 


Drar Souprer, — Your kind letter was received some days ago, 
and I embrace the first opportunity that presents itself toreply. The 
grave that you say you wept above, was my only brother’s, noble, 
gifted, and unfortunate. I, his only sister, grew up with him, and O! 
sir, how much I loved him, none can tell. We played together, and 
wandered through the green fields by day, and at evening when the 
stars had come out, with father and mother we yzathered around the 
fireside, and our dear boy talked of his future, and of what he hoped 
to accomplish in the world, until I almost longed to be a man, that I 
might share with him his trials and victories. Wenever thought of 
sorrow or trouble, for our future was cloudless, but O! dear sol- 
dier, we had our dark days all too soon. As we grew older, a neigh- 
bor of ours began the manufacture of domestic wines, and from the 
first lot they made, brought a few botties to ourhome. They little 
knew what they were bringing to that peaceful home. We all drank, 
but my brother seemed to love it; and you know the rest, he went 
from this to stronger drink for years, until the appetite bound him 
hand and foot. I will not repeat what he and I suffered in the strug- 
gle to have him relieved from the curse. One night, after one of his 
terrible drinking spells, taking my hand he said, ‘‘ By God’s help, I 
never will touch or taste the accursed drink again;” and in the quiet 
of that autumn evening we knelt and prayed God for strength. 

He kept his pledge, and when the war broke out enlisted; for, he 
said, perhaps my old enemy may attack me again, and I cannot better 
die than for my country. He marched away, and his letters were full 
of hope and promise, and each one closed by saying, “‘It is a severe 
struggle, but I keep my pledge.” One morning news came to us that 
he was badly wounded. I hastened to the hospital, and held him in 
my arms, and just before he died he said, ‘‘I thank God I have con- 
quered rum.” 

As I wrote what you read on his tombstone, and arranged the flow- 
ers on his grave, tears fell thick and fast, but my heart gratefully 
thanked God that he died a sober man, a noble death for a noble 
cause; and may you gather encouragement and hope from his suc- 
cessful struggle and glorious death. God bless and keep you is the 
wish of 


Yours very truly, 
M—— G——. 


78 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Where shall we look in all history for a brighter ex- — 
ample of true heroism. He not only fought bravely on 
the battle-field, but he conquered the enemy within him. 
Who shall say his reward is not that of those to whom is 
said, “ Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou 
in”? for surely he had kept the faith, and there must 
have been a crown of glory awaiting him. : 

Weshould not too harshly judge these poor diseased 
men, for they are not only sick in body, but have “a 
mind diseased.” 

Some contend that there is too much sympathy for 
these “slaves of appetite,” but when we read a story like 
the above, as well as when we trace the struggles of 
Uniac, how is it possible for us to pity too much? 

A soldier who had often gained promotion for his gal- 
lantry on the field of battle, lay one night on his bed, 
raving like a madman, crying for some one to give him 
“rum.” His wife bent over him with the most tender 
solicitude. When sober, he loved her dearly; but now, 
because he thought she had taken his liquor away,— 
when the attention of all present was turned in some 
other direction,—he turned on her, and with a blow 
felled her to the floor. After he had done it, he seemed 
to become for a moment sober, and he cried out, “O my 
God! I have killed my best friend.” We lifted her up, 
and soon restored her to consciousness. He watched us, 
and, when she revived, he took her hand, and said, 
“Why did I strike her? All because. I wanted this 
liquor. O! what will a man not do for the accursed 
stuff!” And, as through the long night we watched with 
a man we knew was noble and generous when free from 


9 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 79 


the evils of liquor, but now, ready to sacrifice his best 
friend, we felt that he needed sympathy, for he would 
not put himself in this condition willingly. 

If this, that men put into their mouths to steal away 
their brains, is so dreadful in its final results, what young 
man can even afford to run the chance of touching or 
tasting it, in any form or shape. 

Uniac had a kind heart, and took a deep interest in 
any one who was in trouble or want, and was ready and 
willing to share tne last cent with them. He would 
often take a long walk to see if he could not do good to 
some one in trouble. He would call these his manhood- 
making walks, for he used often to say how much better 
a man feels if he can only do ‘some good. 

No man had a keener appreciation of what constitutes 
true politeness. He also loved adventures, and this 
trait in his character he found opportunity to satisfy. 

One day he was wandering about Washington, trying 
to keep back the desire that was more than usually press- 
ing in its demands for him to yield, when he met a little 
girl crying bitterly. He stopped her, asked her what the 
matter was, and found that her father and mother had 
sent her out to buy some rum, that she had lost the 
money given her to pay for it, and she knew if she went 
back without the liquor or money, she would receive 
severe treatment; and she was crying as though her 
little heart would break. 

Uniac took her by the hand, and asked her to show 
him her home, promising to protect her. She led him 
to the outskirts of the city, and turned into the door of 
a miserable-looking hut, and, going up into the attic, 


80 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


opened a door. Inside lay a woman, ragged and dirty, 
while in an old chair sat a bloated-looking man. ‘The 
moment the child opened the door, he greeted her with 
an awful oath, and asked her where she had been so long ; 
but seeing Uniac, he stopped, and after surveying him 
from head to foot, inquired what he wanted. Uniac told 
him he had come to try and help him and his little one. 

The woman on the bed seemed to hear these words, 
for she opened her eyes and made some remarks, at the 
same time shaking her finger at as child, as mined as to 
say, “ Wait till this man has gone.’ 

After talking kindly to the man, telling him the story 
of his own life, he succeeded in getting his attention, and 
what he said about the possibility of his becoming a man 
once more seemed to touch his heart, and tears ran 
thick and fast down his cheeks. Then opening his arms, 
he cried, “Come to me, my dear little one; God knows 
I would not injure or disgrace you, were it not for 
rum.” 

After he had somewhat controlled himself, he told 
Uniac his life’s story, briefly as follows : — 


*T was born in Massachusetts ; my parents were mov- 
ing in the best society. I had two brothers and one 
sister. Our home was one of the pleasantest, and the 
future was all golden with hope, when the “ gold fever ” 
broke out. JI, with many others, contracted it, and 
being about twenty-one years of age, I thought this 
would be a good way to start in life; and so my oldest 
brother and myself left those we loved, and took pas- 
sage for the ‘Golden State.’ I had then only drank 


- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 81 


oceasionaliy cider, and felt not the least danger from 
intemperance. I had attended one or two temperance 
meetings, held in my native town, but had been in the 
habit of regarding temperance lecturers as an unreasonable 
class of men, and thought it was only fools who became 
drunkards. 

“We arrived in California in good condition, and im- 
mediately set out for the gold diggings. We had a 
little money, and invested ina land claim in a settlement 
of miners, where we soon began life in real earnest. 
There was a trader in the place, who supplied the 
wants of the men, with what was necessary as well 
as what was a curse to many, and of no real benefit to 
any one, as I have since learned by bitter experience. 
The first few weeks we worked there, we were quite for- 
tunate in our digging, and succeeded in making quite a 
fair amount of money. My brother as well as myself 
was in the habit of spending the evenings at the store, 
and often drank. We did this for some time before 
_ we began to feel any bad effects from the same, but soon 
my brother began to neglect his work, and would come 
to our hut late at night, badly intoxicated. I also grew 
' worse and worse, till we had lost nearly everything 
we had called our own. One night my brother, from 
excessive drinking, was taken sick, and I stood beside 
him and heard him cry for drink, and I had not the power 
to give it to him. A burning fever took possession of 
him, and for two weeks I watched him sink away. Not 
once did he know me, but raved, and often talked. of 
mother and home, till the tears would run down my cheeks 
-instreams. I was unable to supply his wants, and one 
6 


82 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


night Iheld him in my arms, and just before midnight he 
opened his once beautiful blue eyes, and looking up into 
mine, said, ‘George, where am I? Where is mother 
and sister? All is calm, I hear music.’ His head fell — 
back, and he was dead. 

“With my own hands I made him a grave, and planted 
flowers above it; and the evening I buried him, I kneeled 
beside that sacred spot, and asked God to help me to 
abstain forever from the use of intoxicating liquors. I 
wrote the sad news home, and asked them to send me 
money enough to come back to them. I left him I loved, 

.and he sleeps to-night in a distant part of the land, with 
no stone to mark the spot where I laid him, unknown 
and forgotten. except by those who loved him, far away . 
from where he rests. 

“I went back to my native town, began business, pros- 
pered, became acquainted with a beautiful girl, — there 
she lays, you would hardly think it was the same one, — 
we were married. All of the circle in which she moved 
drank wine, and it was not long before I yielded, and it 
is the same old story over again; I not only sank back 
again, but, worse than all, she I loved went also. We 
have been from bad to worse, till at last I got a chance 
here, but I was turned off six months ago, and here we 
are, as you find us, — wretched and miserable, and the 
future of our child darkened. What shall we do to 
reform? Is there hope,” he cried as he finished, “for 
her and for me?” i 

What could be the effect of such a story on a man 
like Uniac? Of course it made him stronger, and he 
said, “I feel as though there was a Providence in my 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 83 


meeting this little child, for I was in the midst of a des- 
perate struggle, and this story helped me to stand.” He, 
by the aid of some gentlemen interested in the temper- 
ance question, succeeded in doing something for the fam- 
ily, and had the satisfaction of seeing the man and wife 
both sign the pledge. The evening of the day he met the 
little girl, he wrote the following : — 


Sad is the drunkard’s life, 
Wasting in crime, 

Far from the path of right, 
Reckless of time. 

Tears of repentant grief 
Chill as they start, 

Hardly a tender thought 
Wake in his heart. 


Often a single spark 
Kindles a flame, 

Kindness may win him back, 
Prayers may reclaim, 

Go where he sits alone, 
Burdened with care, 

Tell him his sinful course, 
Plead with him there. 


Picture a happy past 
Gone from his sight, 
Bring back his early youth, 
Cloudless and bright. 

Tell how a mother’s eye 
Watched while he slept, 
Tell how she prayed for him, 

Sorrowed and wept. 


Point to the better land, 
Home of the blest; 

Where she has passed away, 
Gone to her rest. 


84 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


O’er that departed one 
Memory will yearn, 
God, in his mercy, grant 
° He may return. 


We have such information as to lead us to feel sure 
that the subjects of these incidents are correct to the 
letter; and they are but the counterparts of similar ones 
all over our country. let us raise up the banner of 
total abstinence and bid all come under its folds. Lift 
up the fallen, throw the cords of sympathy around the 
weak and tempted. Let manhood be written. on the 
brow of the most degraded. Let us help the struggling 
hearts, and we shall have our reward, though it may not 
come during this life; but just over the river crowns 
await those who labor for humanity and God. 


‘Tt may not be our lot to wield 
The sickle, in the ripened field; 
Nor ours to hear on summer’s eves 
The Reaper’s song among the sheaves; 
But ours the grateful service, whence 
Comes day by day the recompense, 
The hope, the purpose staid, 
The fountain, and the noon-day shade. 
And were this life its utmost span, 
The only end and aim of man, 
Better the toil in fields like these, 
Than waking dreams, and slothful ease. 
Our lives, though falling like our grain, 
Like that revives and lives again; 
And early called, how blest are they 
Who wait in Heaven the Harvest day!” 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 85 


CHAPTER X. 


ATTENDS ARMY SUPPER AT ALEXANDRIA—DRINKS THE 
TOASTS IN COLD WATER—HIS ABSTINENCE CHAL- 
LENGED —RISES, AND GIVES HIS ELOQUENT TRIB- 
UTE TO COLD WATER —GOUGH’S, DENTON’S TRIBUTE. 


A snort time after he had signed the pledge, and 
hardly knew whether he or his appetite was to win the 
victory, a prominent) officer in the army invited him to 
attend a military supper given in honor of a victory of 
the Union arms. He told me that he debated long and 
well in his mind the question whether to attend or not. 
He said “he knew wine and other intoxicating drinks 
would flow as freely as water, and he doubted his power 
to withstand the temptation.” However, by the persua- 
sions of friends, he consented to go; and he afterwards 
said that if he ever prayed God for strength, it was 
as he entered that hall. He found at the festive board 
his friends and companions, and, as he had thought, his 
old enemy — wine. Speeches were made, and all in the 
room drank the sentiments in the liquor but himself. 
The chairman noticed it, and ealled on him for a toast, 
and offered to pledge his health in a glass of wine. He 
said for a moment he faltered, when strength returned 
to him. He arose from his chair, filled a glass with 


86 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


sparkling water, and said, “Mr. Chairman: With 


Deore will I drink your health, but it must be in cold 
water.” 

The attention of the whole company was riveted on 
him, and the most profound silence prevailed as he 
slowly lifted his glass in his hand, and impressively 
pointing to it, gave the following beautiful and eloquent 
tribute to cold water : — 

“I took up the glass, [ filled it with water, I held it up 
between me and the light, while that wondrous agent 
kept shooting prismatic arrows through the liquid drops. 
I compared it with the wine in my neighbor’s glass, and 
the wine lost by the comparison. I compared it with 
yonder goblet of champagne, foaming, fretting, spark- 
ling for a moment, and the apie ad ct lost by the com- 
parison. 

“In the glass of water there is no change; it has the 
same properties to-day which belonged to it when God 
brewed it in his crucible at the dawn of creation, and 
flung it out in purple, cradled in vermilion, baptized in 
molten gold, swathed in dew, and set it as a bow of 


promise from sea to land. Behold it! See its purity! 


how it glitters and sparkles, as if a mass of liquid gems! 
This pure, cold water, essence of life! Brewed by our 
heavenly Father’s hand, in the green glade, in the grassy 
dell, where the wild deer wander, and the lambkins 
play. 

“Down,down in the deepest valleys,where the fodutane 
murmur, and the rills sing, and high up the tall moun- 
tain tops, where the naked granite glitters like silver 


in the sunlight. Where the storm clouds brood, and — 


a 
= ie ing le aoe 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 87 


the thunders crash, and away far out in the sea, where 
the hurricanes howl music, and the waves war in cho- 
rus, heralding the march of God. Eight of oxygen to 
one of hydrogen by weight, and one of oxygen to two 
of hydrogen by volume, cried God as he touched the 
mountain with his omnipotent finger, and the Amazon 
and Mississippi rolled their mighty floods, and pearly 
pebbles and dreary wastes, in obedience to the divine 
behests. 

“There is not a cataract that flings its white foam from 
mountain crest to the rivulet whispering through the bed 
of violets, but sings this eternal law. 

“There is not a wild wave lashing itself into sparkling 
spray against the rocky cleft, to the murmuring brooklet 
in which the child plays with its naked feet, but swells 
the measured music of the Omnipotent command. Al- 
ways the same. [Freeze it into ice as hard as the granite 
of the eternal hills, dissipate it into vapor of such exqui- 
site tenuity, that it would take a thousand acres of the 
floating mist, to form a single drop of dew; take from 
the high billows of the sounding sea, or from the salt 
solitudes of the distant ocean, bring it from the dark 
depths of the dreary Libyan desert, or with Guy Lusac 
in yon balloon, bottled up forty thousand feet above the 
earth’s surface, still the same. Its properties never vary. 
Pure and sparkling as when it trembled on the lily’s leaf, 
or faded from the snow wreath, in the golden light of 
the rising sun. | 

“ Or weaving the many-colored iris, that seraph’s zone 
of the sky, whose warp is the rain-drop of the earth, 
whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all decorated with 


88 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction. Still 
unchanged, ever beautiful, and the friend of man; cool- 
ing his fevered brow, quenching his burning thirst. Life- 
giving water! No poison bubbles on its brim, no 
drunkard’s shrieking ghost curses it in words of despair. 

“Beautiful, pure, blessed, and glorious, the same 
sparkling, life-giving, cold water.” 


Many who have listened to Uniac, have asked whether 
this tribute was original, and given on the spot without 
preparation. We have reason to believe that he ex- 
pected to attend this supper, and knowing he would be 
called on for a speech, prepared himself for the occasion. 
He undoubtedly gave a tribute to cold water, but proba- 
bly different from the one above. A soldier who was 
present at the supper, says he well remembers Uniac 
gave a tribute to cold water, of a most eloquent charac- 
ter, but cannot tell whether it was the same as he heard 
him give afterwards throughout the country. 

There has been much discussion among the temperance 
public, in regard to a tribute to cold water, given many 
years before Uniac was heard of. 

A clergyman of the Methodist denomination, who trav- 
elled through the Western States, in the early days of 
the temperance reform, by the name of Paul Denton, is 
said to have advertised a grand barbecue to take place in 
a certain grove. He issued his invitations far and wide, 
and at the bottom of the bill he published, were these 
words, “And to all who attend, the best drink in the 
world will be furnished, free.” A large crowd gathered, 
and soon the men who came for the drink, cried out, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 89 


* Your Reverence has lied; where is the drink?” Near 
the grove was a spring of pure cold water, and when the 
ery became loud, and promised to break up the meeting, 
Mr. Denton arose, and pointing his long finger to’ the 
spring, said : — 


© There is the drink I promised, not in simmering stills, 
_over smoky fires, choked with poisonous gases, and sur- 
rounded with the stench of sickening odors and rank 
corruptions, doth your Father in heaven prepare the 
precious essence of life, the pure cold water, but in the 
green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer wanders, 
and the child loves to play, there God brews it; and 
down, low down in the deep valleys where the fountains 
murmur and the rills sing; and high up on the tall moun- 
tain-tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in 
the sun, where the storm-cloud broods and the thunder- 
storms crash; and away far out on the wide, wild sea, 
where the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roar 
the chorus, sweeping the march of God,— there he brews 
it, that beverage of life, health-giving water. And every- 
where it is a thing of beauty; gleaming in the dew-drop ; 
singing in the summer rain; shining in the ice-gem, till 
the trees-all seem turned to living jewels, — spreading a 
golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around 
the midnight moon; sporting in the cataract; sleeping in 
the glacier; dancing in the hail shower; folding its 
bright snow-curtains softly about the wintry world; and 
weaving the many-colored iris, that seraph’s zone of the 
sky, whose warp is the rain-drop of earth, whose roof is 
the sunbeam of heaven, all decked with celestial flowers, 


90 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


by the mystic hand of refraction. Still always it is beau- 
tiful — that blessed life-water! No poison bubbles on 
its brink; its foam brings not madness and murder; no 
blood stains its liquid glass; pale widows and starving. 
orphans weep not burning tears in its depths; no drunk- 
ard’s shrieking ghost from the grave curses it in words 
of eternal despair! Speak out, my friends! would you 
exchange it for the demon’s drink, Alcohol?” 


We have no means of knowing whether the above story 
is true or not, but we find it published in a temperance 
Speaker, and as it may throw some light on the subject, 
we have given it. 

We now find in an account of a meeting held at Tre- 
mont Temple, many years ago, the following, published 
in the papers of that day. 

Mr. John B. Gough spoke on temperance last evening, 
at Tremont Temple, and near the close of his eloquent 
address he stepped to the table and taking up a glass of 
cold water, gave the following thrilling and eloquent 
tribute to cold water. 


* Look at it, ye thirsty ones of earth, see its purity! © 
How it glistens as if a mass of liquid gems; it is a bever- 
age brewed by the Almighty himself. Not in the 
simmering still, over smoky fires, choked with poison- 
ous gases, and surrounded by the stench of sickening 
odors and rank corruptions, doth your Father in heaven 
prepare the precious essence of life, —the pure cold 
water; but in the green glade and grassy dell, where the 
red deer wanders and the child loves to play, — there 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 91 


_ God brews it; and down, down, in the deepest valleys, 
where the fountains murmur and the rills sing; and 
high up the tall mountain-tops where the naked granite 
glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-clouds 
brood, and the thunder-storms crash; and away far out 
en the wide sea, where the hurricanes howl music, and 
the waves roar the chorus, sweeping the march of God, 
—there he brews it, that beverage of life, —health- 
giving water! And everywhere it is a thing of beauty ; 
gleaming in the dew-drop; singing in the summer rain; 
shining in the ice-gem, till the trees all seem turned 
into living jewels; spreading a golden veil over the 
setting sun, or a white gauze over the midnight moon; 
sporting in the cataracts; sleeping in the glaciers; 
dancing in the hail-shower; folding its bright snow- 
curtains softly about the wintry world; and weaving the 
many-colored iris, that seraph’s zone of the sky, whose 
warp is the rain-drop of earth, whose woof is the sun- 
beam of heaven, all checkered over with celestial flowers 
by the mystic hand of refraction, — still always it is 
beautiful, that blessed life-water! No poison bubbles on 
the brink; its form brings no sadness or murder; 
no blood stains its limpid glass; broken-hearted wives, 
pale widows, and starving orphans, shed no tears in its 
depths; no drunkard’s shrieking ghost from the grave 
curses it in the words of eternal despair ;— beautiful, 
pure, blessed, and glorious, for ever the same sparkling, 
pure water !” 


We have no words of comment to offer as to who was 
the first to give the tribute to cold water, but having 


92 UNIAC: HIS LIFE ‘ 


presented all three it is impossible to read them and not 
feel that all three sprung from one source. | 

But Uniac at least may have the credit for delivering 
to hundreds and thousands of people in an impassioned 
manner, something which is not surpassed for beauty 
and power of language. 

At the close of the supper, the officers and soldiers 
congratulated him on the eloquence of his speech. It 
was the effect of this effort that made him decide to 
enter the lecture field. His great power as an orator 
was in the descriptive line, and he had no superior in 
this direction. 

When he came out from the room where he had faced 
wine and other liquors, and had stood firmly by his 
manhood and pledge, he said, “I felt like kneeling down 
on the steps of the hotel, and thanking God for my 
victory. It was my first real and decisive triumph, and 
I felt stronger than before.” 

He still labored in the direction of reforming others. 
He seems now to be the master over his appetite, but he 
has not destroyed the demon; he only sleeps, and eternal | 
-, vigilance will be the price of his virtue and manhood. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 93 


CHAPTER XI. 


FIRST LETTER TO BOSTON — OTHER LETTERS — EXTRACTS 
FROM WRITINGS. 


In this chapter will be found extracts from some of 
Uniac’s letters and writings, and as there are many very 
beautiful passages, they will be interesting to all. 

The following letter was written to Mr. Walter Keith, 
of Boston, then quite a young boy; and was the first 
one received by any member of this family, and was 
suggested by the sending to the army of a “ Soldier’s 
Comfort Bag,” which accidentally fell into the hands of 
Uniac, and shows us how much is sometimes accom- 
plished by the smallest act, — for under God this kind 
deed done by one who was not old enough to go on to 
the field of battle, and do service for his country, but 
who desired to do something, led to a friendship be- 
tween this soldier and the tumily of the boy, which gave 
him a home and friends whon he had none elsewhere. 


“Camp DISTRIBUTION, VIRGINIA, June 11, 1864. 


“Waurer L. Kerru : — Your little bag has done good 
service. It has furnished a poor Union soldier with 
little necessaries that are very indispensable when one 
is so far from home. You say that you are not “avery 
handsome boy.” Now I will tell you how to be the 


94 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


handsomest boy in all Boston, and the boy that will be 
loved the most; but you must do just as I tell you if 
you want to be this handsome boy. ‘First, love the 
Lord our God with all your heart, and all your soul 
and strength. Second, love all the world next to God. 
Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and serve him with-. 
out ceasing. 

‘When you meet boys who are in the habit of swear- 
ing or doing any other naughty thing, leave them, and 
ask Jesus to bless you, and lead you away from those 
bad boys, and He will do it. He will plant flowers in 
your path. He will make your breath sweet, your eyes 
as bright and pure as midnight stars.. And he will put 
so much love and sweetness in your face, that you will 
be just as handsome as you will be good. | 

“You must love your country also, and be willing to 
give your life at any moment, to defend its Constitu- 
tion, to maintain its honor. Remember the great, good 
men who once made a teapot of Boston harbor. They 
fought hard for liberty. They won it too. Let us 
maintain it. 

“My time will soon be up; I was out. at the first bat- 
tle of Bull Run, but not as a soldier; but I joined the 
army soon after, and I have seen a good deal of hard- 
ship, I assure you. | 

“I spent four months in the city of Richmond; I was 
there this time, twelve months ago, and celebrated the 
Fourth of July there. You are a Congregationalist. 
Have you ever heard of the Rev. Edward Hawes, of 
Waterville, Me.? Iam very fond of him. I know Mr. 
of Boston, also; he isa lovely man. I would like 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 95 


_ to write you a long letter, but I have very little time 
to spare just now, so you will excuse me. Iwas badly 
wounded at the battle of Chancellorville, twelve months 
since, and I am not altogether well yet. Please send 
me your picture, I will send you mine inreturn. You | 
_ will be my little boy, will you not? We will be fond — 
of each other, and when I get out of the service I 
will go to Boston, and you may be certain that I will 
visit you. Now I thank you for your sweet letter. 
I will want you some day to send me a book if you 
have it. I will tell you the name when next I write 
to you. 

“God bless you, and make you his especial, tender 
care, and keep you from all sin, and if it be his good 
pleasure, may he permit me the sweet pleasure of meet- 
ing you before long.” 


This beautiful letter called out an answer, to which 
Uniac wrote the following letter : — 


“My Dear Youna Frrenp, —God has been very - 
good to me of late, in surrounding me with sweet spirit- 
ual influence ; in breathing his peace through my heart ; 
in making my path more sunny, my playground broader, 
and my playmates better. Walter, to be pure is to be 
heavenly ; and to love Jesus with our whole hearts, and 
one another with tender affection, should be our end and 
aim in life. You wish to know my past history. It is 
full of stirring incident, but you are not yet prepared to 
know it. When we meet, you will entertain me with 
your favorite airs. 1 will entertain you with a narrative 


96 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


of my life. Ihave much to interest you, some instruc- 
tions to give you, and a good deal to tell you that will 
make you sad. Do you know that it is good for us to 
be sad by times? It mellows our nature. It sweetens 
our disposition. It brings us closer to the cross. And 
the reason why it has thistinfluence, is because when sad 
and melancholy, we seek in vain for a remedy among our 
friends. 

“The world has no consolation for the sorrowing heart. 
Earthly hope may weave her dreamy garlands, and fringe 
the future with flowers and sunshine, but all these are 
perishable, the heart grows sick and sicker, until at last 
it finds consolation, where alone consolation is to be 
found, in the sweet teachings of our loving and gentle 
Saviour. Yes, W., to be sad by times is a goodly thing. 

“Tam very fond of music. It has a refining influence. 
It is a part of the pleasures of angels. It is the breath- 


ing of heaven. You love to go out, and sport and play. 


So did I when I was young. But I hope you select good 
playmates. ‘To go with boys who swear and smoke and 
chew, who are rude in their language, and ruder in their 
behavior, is not good for a good boy like you. Our 
future life owes much to our youthful training and prac- 


: ad 


tices. Would you like to have a handsome foot when | 


you grow up to bea man? If you would, you must not 
(now, when it is soft and tender) force it into an ugly, 
unnatural shoe. Should you do so, you will retard its 
growth in proper proportions, and it will take the shape 
of the ill-made shoe. : 

* Now, it is just so with your character. It sets its 
shape and direction from the circumstances by which it 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. oF 


is surrounded. If these are good, your character will be 
meek, sweet, and Christlike. If otherwise, your char- 
acter will be rough, angular, and ungodly. And the 
good people will not love you. Bad boys may laugh at 
you because you don’t swear and smoke as they do,’ but 
you must remember that God does not love bad boys. 
And what need you care for the, ill-will of those who 
are not loved by God? 

*You should never forget your Sabbath school, and 
the good lessons that are taught there. You may get 
tired sometimes, and wish you were away from it. 
When you feel this way, just think of the story of 
Christ’s suffering for you. 

“How tenderly your father and mother love you, and 
how dearly you love them in return. Christ’s love for 
you is stronger still. _Won’t you sit down and talk with 
him one hour each Sabbath? I know you will, because 
I feel that you are good, and this feeling makes me love 
you very dearly. And I know, too, that you will not 
associate with boys who are unwilling to love their Re- 
deemer; should you do so, the soldiers would not love 
VOU. 


The following was written to a sister of the above, and 
explains itself. 


“I like your picture dearly, because I believe it is the 
picture of a good, obedient girl, and one who loves Jesus 
with her whole heart and soul. Am [I not right in this? 
I know I am, and I shall therefore love you the more 
tenderly. 


7 


98 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“Is n’t God very good to us? What a magnificent 
world he has spread out before us, with what a rich car- 
pet he has covered it for the summer months, and what 
_ lots of bouquets he has scattered here and there, and how 
kindly he waters them with crystal dew while they slum- 
ber. What grand hues and tints He breathes through 
them as they float in the breeze, ae fill the air with 
unapproachable fragrance. 

“And how He changes the looks of everything in 
autumn, to resemble molten gold. ‘This lasts for its 
season, and pleases the eye, when behold the entire 
face of Nature is clothed in spotless white. O, how 
grateful we should feel towards the Being who is thus 
kind to us. And you must remember also that He 
painted your lips with inimitable vermilion, and gave a 
rosy roundness to your eye, which no artist can imitate 
in beauty and color. 

“You love this God, don’t you? ana you love and heed 
your mother and your father, and your good dear brother, 
and you pray for all of them, don’t you? 

“This is the way to be a good girl, to be loved and 
admired by every good person. You will have no occa- 
sion to have anything to say or do with unchristian peo- 
ple, except to advise them of their folly. 

“TI have been growing worse for the last week, instead 
of better, but Iam in hopes that I will be well soon. I 
anticipate much pleasure from your company when I go 
to Boston. We will have some pleasant walks together, 
will we not? 

“T want to see Cambridge, and Bunker Hill, and Mount 
Auburn Cemetery, and a great many other places, so that 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 99 


you must be prepared to spend some time in my com- 
pany. I received a letter yesterday from A. F. 
Esq. I have written to him to come and see me by all 
means. Will you give my love to Walter, and to your 
good mother, and to all your family? _ 

“And will you excuse your sick soldier’s poor letter? 
I think of you very often. You will think of me by 
times, and believe me, that my prayers will be constantly 
offered in your behalf, that Jesus may be near you at 
all times, that the angels of love and peace may take you 
in their ward and keeping. That your life may be long 
and happy, and that your crown may be a garland of 
never-dying light and verdure. Can I wish you any more? 
If I can, *tis wished. 

* Accept my love, and believe me to be, your ever 
affectionate friend.” 





The following are extracts from letters to a friend 
residing at Boston, and were written soon after sign- 
ing the pledge. And though they may repeat a 
few facts we have stated, nevertheless they will repay 
a perusal. , 


* CONVALESCENT Camp, near Alexandria. 


* Jan. 21st, 1864. Thus far in life has mine been a 
career of madness, of dreadful dissipation; nor have I 
yet been subjected to any ordeal that would test the 
sincerity of my reformation. 

“I am to speak in the city of Alexandria next week ; 
the occasion will be a presentation and social supper. It 


100 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


will afford me an opportunity of testing my power of 


resisting ‘ mine ancient foe.’ 

“Tf I be the victor, I will look the future in the face, 
firm in faith. , 

“Jan. 29th. I spoke at the Marshall House in 
Alexandria, afterwards I sat down to a social supper. I 
was the only temperate man present, and am glad to tell 
you that I had no desire to indulge, though pressed 
to do so. 

“We had a large party and some very distinguished 
men. 

“Jan. 29. I was taken prisoner at the three days’ 
fight at Chancellorsville, by the 43d Georgia. I was 
wounded on the first day, and twice on the third. [ 
was reported killed in the Adjutant’s report. I was 
entirely helpless, being both wounded and paralyzed. 

“My friends left me for dead, and my foes began to 
search after my effects. 

“In so doing they discovered a Masonic emblem on 
my person, when the Lieutenant in command desired 
them to desist. 

“He made a personal examination, after which he had 
me removed to a place of safety. I was conscious of all 
that was transpiring, but could neither move nor yet 
articulate a single sound. 

“I spent the most part of three months in the prison 
of Richmond. Before I went there I weighed one hun- 
dred and thirty-eight pounds, when I came to Annapolis 


I only weighed seventy-eight pounds. What I suffered — 


cannot be told. We all lived in the shadow of starva- 
tion. 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 101 


“Apr. 28th. I enclose a temperance pledge. Keep 
it in memory of me. I signed a similar one. Pray God | 
that I may keep it. 
| “May 6th. Twelve months ago to-day, and I was on 
my way to Richmond. I pant to be with my command 
once more. I asked for an examination in the hope that 
I would be sent forward, but I did not succeed except in 
obtaining the pleasant information ‘that I had the heart 
disease.’ 

“Be prepared to hear startling war news in afew days. 
Lee is far seeing, and perfectly at home in Virginia. 

* Grant will have to exercise immense caution, or he 
gets flanked on the Rapidan. 

“May 20th. The scenery all around here is delight- 
ful, that is to one who /has the soul to feel it, the heart 
to beat with it, the ears to hear it, the eyes to see its 
many shades and hues. | 

“This is a charming vale resembling Avoca, my usual 
evening ramble. ‘How rich in verdure, fragrant with 
magnolias, and musical with the song of birds and 
insects ! 

“Yonder mountain has flung this stream from her 
stony lap, freighted with water-lilies, and sent it bound- 
ing and sparkling through the rich plain. 

“It is called ‘Four Mile Run.’ Descending this hill 
of green, one obtains a nearer view of the Potomac. 
There it lies below us, smooth, broad, and yellow, more. 
formidable as a defence to the Capitol, than would be a 
million warriors armed, equipped and ‘ eager for the fray.’ 
To the right is the city of Alexandria, with its uninvit- 


ing mien. And to the left, Washington. There stands 
* 


102 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


the Capitol, like a bright eye in the forehead of «brazen — 
monster, and nearer to the Potomac and farther to the 
left is the unfinished ‘Stony Finger,’ intended to per- 
petuate the memory of Nature’s noblest man. 

“The sun is just setting. It hangs like a globe of 
molten gold from the brow of the far off west.” 


The following poem was written by Mr. U., after one 
of his visits to the Soldiers’ Cemetery, Arlington, 
Va.:— 


7 


THE MEMORY OF THE BURIED BRAVE. 


The memory of the buried brave, 
O, shrine it in your soul forever; 

The hero of an honored grave, . 
Is like the rock wrapped in the river, © 

Spreading o’er Time’s e’er fleeting wave, 
The spirit of his life forever. 

’*Gainst brutal force and crafty scheme, 
An everlasting war he wages, 

And like the foam-fleet on the stream, 
Each glowing hope, each brilliant dream, 
Flows down to future ages. 


At length, the stately millions learn 
The moral of their own dark story, 
That, while the servile court the stern, 
And lose, for gold, their love for glory, 
New chains are all such slaves can earn, 
Save cruel death, and burial gory. 
But when the brave, the bold, the good, 
Are banded in true patriot labor, 
They feel the iron in their blood. 
O, each who died for nation-hood, 
Was gathered strangely from the flood, 
To form a conquering sabre. 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 103 

To conquer mind, to chain-the will, 

Shall be without one sane believer, 
A creed that mocks fixed nature, still 

+ Is but a base and false deceiver. 

Truth shall bend no suppliant knee 

To wrong andriot; they must falter! 
The very ashes of the free 

Give rapid growth to liberty. 
What marvel happier days shall see, 

Each nameless grave an altar. 


O’er ruined hopes let tyrants laugh, 

And quaff their wine o’er baffled merit. 
The strong winds humbled by the chaff, 

Is ay the dream that fools inherit, 
They cannot steal the epitaph 

Graved on the marble of man’s spirit. 
There it abides the promised hour, 

When earth shall be aroused and bidden 
Of Heaven, to hurl down tyrant power. 

From freedom’s meadow, mead, and bower, 

Slavery’s home and lordly tower, 

It shall by God be driven. 


The memory of the buried brave, 
The last fond twilight streak adorning, 
The hero of an honored grave, 
Is first to send around the warning. 
Freedom by the South long deemed dead, 
Is bursting forth in orient morning. 
O’er that memory shrined in tears, 
Which few save God regard with sadness, 
The dew no mortal sees nor hears, 
Until the rosy morn appears, 
Is still the loveliest thing that wears 
The light of morning gladness. 


Then follows a letter from a Western paper, written 
to a lady, and published by her, which we have taken 
the liberty to insert. 


104 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“Camp Distripution, VA., Aug. 5, 1864. 
* Miss ——, Weston, Wood County, Ohio. 


“Dear Miss,—I am a soldier, and an entire stranger 
to you, and even to your place of residence. Not only 
is this true, but we may ever remain so, and yet I am 
tempted to write to you, and I feel assured that in so 
doing, you will not be offended at my imprudence. I 
have been a wanderer from my very childhood, and have 
spent much of my time amid the wild scenes of nature, 
where by close observation I have endeavored to hold 
‘close communion with God. Solitary dells have been 
the altars whereat I have worshipped, and the deeper 
feelings of my nature have borrowed a hue from their 
sweet loneliness. 





Nor have the wild storms of the three years’ campaign 
through which I have passed, and in which,’I assure you, 
I have suffered, been able to crush out my love of 
romance. Hach day but makes the sheen -of the grass 
greener, the emerald of the dew purer and brighter; and 
each hour of my life is gilded with a holier and a softer 
tinge. | 

“During my walks yesterday, I came across a lonely 
graveyard. J entered —there were three graves. Two 
of them contained the ashes of Robert and Emma Frazer, 
as the little stones at the head indicated. The third 
was the grave of their mother, and the monument bore 
the following inscription: “To the memory of Presha 
Lee Frazer, consort of Anthony R. Frazer. Born Dec. 
25th, 1799. Died Sep. 26th, 1859. 

“I examined the white monument. It bore a snowy 





i 


1 
‘ 
a 
4 
ij 
' 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 105 


wreath, and right over the wreath in pencil mark, was 
written the name, ‘Miss ,» Weston, Wood 
County, Ohio, and underneath it, and close to the wreath, 
the name of “ Miss — ’ of the same place. 

“Both names were written by the same hand. I 
began to reflect, — these names were written by a soldier. 
What has become of the hand that penned them? Has 
it been stilled forever, or does it still grasp the musket, 
and is it ready to do its duty? Whatever be its fate, I 
will write to those parties, and let them know that some 
soldier has been remembering them, while loitering 
around this lone ‘city of the dead.’ 

“T found the name of ‘Hiram B. Smith’ on another 
corner of the monument. He belonged ta the Ohio 
troops. 

“If you see Miss , tell her that she has been 
remembered, and if you wish to hear from him who has 
made so free as to write you this, you or she may do so 
at any time by directing a note to ‘E. H. Uniac, Camp 
Distribution, Va., care of Christian Commission.’ ” 

















To this letter he received an answer, full of gratitude, 
and also informed him how much good his letter had 
done; for, says the writer, “It has inspired the women 
of our town to form a society to aid and work for the 
soldiers.” 

He seemed to long for sympathy, and the tendrils of 
his nature ran out in every direction for it. At the close 
of a day when he had been having an unusually hard 
fight, he wrote the following words in his diary. “I 
have been wandering to-day, over the green fields and by 





‘106 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


the murmuring brooks; I have plucked the sweetest _ 
flowers, I have gazed on the blue ethereal vault of 
heaven, — and on everything, from the modest violet to . 
the hilly range of clouds in the sky, I read passing away. 
Yes, men go and men come, to-day we are and to-mor- 
row we are not, and yet God has strewn all around us © 
much that is beautiful, to inspire us to noble action. 
And when I have had such a day of desperate struggling 
as I have had to-day, I think of the worn and weary that 
have passed through the struggles of this world, and to- 
night are resting under the shade of the ‘Tree of Life,’ 
and I confess I sometimes long to be there. I feel I 
would rather die now, when I am sober and in my right 
mind, thafi to go back to what I have suffered ; and still, 
in the face of all my bitter experience, I often fear I shall 
be conquered in the fight. God forbid! is my hourly, 
yes, my constant prayer. The following beautiful lines 
have been running in my mind to-day. 


‘«‘ Where the faded flower shall blossom, 
Blossom never more to fade, 
Where the shaded sun shall brighten, 
Brighten, never more to shade,” — 


there our struggles, trials, and heartaches shall be over, 
and we shall sit and sing, and ‘go no more out forever.’ ” 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 107 


CHAP TH Re eT Ty, 
HIS FIRST VISIT TO MASSACHUSETTS — SPEECH, ETC. 


In the summer of 1865, Mr. Uniac came to Boston for 
the first time. It was brought about through a corre- 
spondence which had been begun through the sending of 
what was called a comfort-bag by a son of Mr. Martin 
L. Keith, of Boston, to which we have alluded. Ex- 
tracts of that correspondence are to be found in another 
part of the book, and show the deep friendship that had 
sprung up between him and the family, and his coming 
was anxiously looked for; and when on the 17th of June, 
with carpet-bag in hand, he made his appearance, he was 
cordially welcomed to this pleasant and comfortable 
home. He was well cared for, assisted to some articles 
of apparel which he very much needed, and everything 
done to make him contented and comfortable. 

The family became so attached to him, that Mr. and 
Mrs. Keith offered him a home with them as long as he 
remained in this vicinity. 

July 4, 1865, he made his first speech in Massachu- 
setts, at Abington, which was well received, and he 
received calls from all’ parts of Plymouth County. He 
left the house of Mr. Keith July 9th, to visit a promi- 
nent gentleman of Boston; not returning that night, the 
family began to feel anxious for him, for the struggle 


108 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


with his appetite was fearful at this time. He did not — 
return for nearly a week, when he came back, sick, sor- 
rowful, and discouraged. The enemy had conquered 
him, and this was his first fall since he signed the 
pledge. 

His dear friends that he had made received him kindly, 
and treated him tenderly, and while weeping like a child, 
he solemnly and faithfully promised never to yield again 
to the intoxicating cup. He was taken to the Washing- 
tonian Home, where he remained and grew stronger and 
better. From here he went to New Hampshire, and 
spent the season; then came back and. went to lecturing | 
in good earnest for temperance. September 3 he spoke 
at Swampscott, October 8 at the Park Street Sunday 
school, Boston, October 15 at Lawrence, and in all parts 
of New England and the West, and was everywhere well 
spoken of by the press. | 

* Zion’s Herald” of July, 1865, said, “ Mr. Uniac has the 
fire, feeling, and native eloquence of his nation; experi- 
ence and observation in the army, and the abundant grace 
of God being superadded, leaves little to be desired.” 

Chicago paper says: “Bro. Uniac of Boston made one 
of the best addresses. ‘The audience were charmed by 
his eloquence.” He was now speaking in the West, hay- 
ing left Massachusetts October 16, 1865, and his success 
throughout the great West was unparalleled. 

He went almost entirely unheralded, a perfect stranger, 
and spoke on a subject which requires a master exponent 
to interest the general public. 

The Indianapolis “ Gazette” and “ Journal,” and in fact 
all the papers west, spoke of him in the highest terms, and 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 109 


we will not take space and time by referring to them 
further. 

On the 8th of December he arrived back in Boston, 
nrade his first speech to a Boston audience, in Tremont 
Temple, on the evening of December 19, 1865, of which 
speech the Boston “ Daily Advertiser” said, “ His remarks 
were of a very interesting nature, and at times of a feel- 
ing and fervent description.” The “ Boston Post” said, 
“For upwards of an hour he held the closest attention 
of the audience while he portrayed with a startling vivid- 
ness, the evils of indulgence in intoxicating drinks. The 
* Journal ” of a later date, speaking of his lecture before 
the Young Men’s Christian Association, said, in concluding 
its report of his speech, “ Mr. Uniac spoke somewhat 
over an hour in a most eloquent strain.” 

In fact the press and the public were unanimous in 
the conclusion that he was destined to stand at the head 
of descriptive orators in the country, provided he was 
able to overcome his desire for strong drink. 

While he was speaking one night at South Reading, a 
very touching incident occurred, and as it well illustrates 
the power he sometimes had over very hardened men, 
we will relate it. After he had closed his lecture, a 
young man came upon the platform and taking his hand, 
said : — 

“It is a strange thing that I am here. I have kept the 
vilest place and sold the most rum of any man in this town. 

“J have led young men and old men to destruction. 
A. few weeks ago, I cursed every man who spoke against 
my business. I defied God. But soon after I could not 
sleep. The thought haunted me that some of the men I 


110 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


had made drunk at night might be dead at my door in 
the morning. But thank God I am converted.” He 
then raised both his hands and said, “I promise before 
God Almighty, my Maker and Saviour, that I will never 
sell or use another single drop of sab while God gives 
me life.” 

_ He went on to say that he was born near there; that 
he had been a soldier and wounded, and had a little 
family. “You have a right,” he said, “to hate them and 
me; I know you do hate us; but for God’s sake won't 
you love us for the future? I had a good Christian 
mother.” } 

Here he broke down, and the eloquent Irish orator 
happily took up the thread of discourse and carried still 
higher the tide of feeling in the assembly by alluding to 
the tear of penitence brought by the angel in Tom 
Moore’s “ Peri Pardoned,” as a passport of re-entrance at 
the gate of Paradise. 

It was said by one who was present that this was one 
of the most thrilling speeches he ever listened to. 

One other incident of a similar nature occurred one 
night, when, after he had retired to his hotel from a public 
meeting, and had seated himself in front of the fire, some 
one rapped on his door; he opened it, and found a lady 
there closely veiled; she said, “ Your speech has had such 
an effect on my husband that he desires to see you at our 
house.” He put on his coat and followed her, and found 
her husband to. be a notorious rumseller, who had made 
up his mind under the influence of Mr. Uniac’s speech to 
quit the business and to sign the pledge, and said he 
wanted to do it in the presence of Mr. Uniac; and there 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. Itt 


in the presence of his two children he vowed to be a 
better man, and to this day, from anything we know to 
the contrary, has kept his pledge; and upon no heart did 
the news of Mr. Uniac’s fall and death come with a more 
crushing weight than on this man. 

These incidents, and hundreds of others that might be 
added, prove that he was showing fruits of his labors. He 
was now fairly in the work, speaking every night and 
laboring incessantly ; and yet, in the midst of all this, is it 
not strange that his appetite often raged with almost 
uncontrollable power? 

Invitations now came to him from all parts of the 
country, and he had to refuse many for lack of time to 
accept them. He had everywhere made a good impres- 
sion. | 

The following is an extract from one of his first lec- . 
tures in Massachusetts : — 


“God works in his own wondrous way. Beneath the 
sea His hand is visible, and islands are flung to the sun- 
light, by the might of that hand. The geography of the 
globe is changing. The veil of the human mind is rent. 
Planets that were fixed in the constellations at Creation’s 
dawn, have been visible for the first time in the history 

of man. | 

“The human soul has broader pinions, the human per- 
ceptions greater depths, the human imagination soars to 
a purer, sublimer height, than it ever soared before. 
Kighteen hundred years of Christian civilization has 
done something for humanity. Before Christ came, 
genius leaped and quivered ina thousand brilliant corus- 


112 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


cations, but went out into a night of eternal darkness. 
It was like the dew of night falling upon the arid moun- 
tain. The mountain returned no sweet verdure. The 
cold winds blew, the dew was changed into ice, the bleak 
rocks glistened, but the sun came and dissolved the ice ; 
the rocks were naked and forbidding as ever. 

* Christ came, His words fell like dew upon the wood- 
land vale, the withered leaf leaped into life, and the 
sleeping grapes stood erect to kiss the feet of the Mas- 
ter. We have seen the glory of the coming of Christian 
truth. All parts of the world are being blessed by the 
rays of the sun of righteousness, and still, in this land 
of Bibles, the demon of intemperance is felt everywhere, 
blasting and ruining the strength and glory of the land. 
Let us gather inspiration and hope from God’s truth, to 
renew the battle for crushed and bleeding humanity. 
Lift up the fallen, help the weak, and souls redeemed 
will sing in heaven, as the fruits of our labor.” 


The following story brings us to the consideration of 
an important question in the life of Uniac. 

During the war, all those who loved our flag and 
country were anxious to do something to aid the 
cause of liberty and union; even the smallest children 
were busy holding fairs, and in various ways collecting 
money for the comfort of the soldiers. Two little chil- 
dren, six years of age, residing in North Brookfield, 
Mass., collected money enough to buy a Bible to send to 
the soldiers. It was a very neat, well-bound book. On 
the fly-leaf was written something like this: “ Should this 
be instrumental, under God, in the conversion of the sol- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 113 


dier into whose hands it may fall, will he please write . 
letter to us ;” to which was signed the names of the chil- 
dren. ae 

It was placed in a box with other articles, and fell into 
the hands of Uniac. He carried it with him everywhere 
he went, and by the light of the camp-fires at night, was 
often seen poring over its pages. 

He read it as he never read the Bible before. He 
resolved to change his life, and he believed that it was 
this little gift from the hands of these dear children, 
that led to his conversion. So he resolved to write the 
children a letter, which he did, full of tenderness and 
thankfulness ; and from this there began a correspondence 
with the family, which ended in a dear friendship. The 
Rev. Mr. Keene, now of Franklin, Mass., was the pastor 
of these children, and has often spoken of how much good 
was done by this little act. This Bible is in existence 
in this State, and is highly prized by those who have it. 
This little story enforces the lesson, that none are too 
young to do something to aid and benefit mankind. 

The relating of the above brings us to a subject 
which cannot be avoided in writing a true story of 
Uniac’s life, and that is, his religious belief, and _ his 
standing in regard to the same. We do not feel quali- 
fied to stand in any light as a judge over a man’s con- 
science, or religious belief, but as it was understood at 
one time, that Mr. Uniac had professed to be a changed 
and converted man, and that he had fallen away from 
the same, we desire to give his true condition, as we 
understand it. 

His sorrow for his sins was deep and heartfelt. We 

8 


114. UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


have heard him pour out his soul in prayer and agony, 
when he thought of the disgrace that his course might 
bring on the church of Christ. He felt that he was un- 
worthy, and often expressed it, but still he clung to the 
hope that had found a place in his heart, and though 
sometimes almost gone, it is serene if it was ever 
entirely extinguished. 

One clergyman has said since his death, “ Don’t you 
know that the Bible says, ‘No drunkard shall enter the 
kingdom of Heaven?’” In reply we have to say, that 
for four months previous to his death, he was a sober, 
upright man, engaged in a war to keep himself from 
being a drunkard, and it can therefore be said, that there 
was something sublime in the contest, and while none 
felt more keenly the utter sinfulness of much that he 
had done, we are content to leave him in the hands of 
Him who took upon himself the form of man, and who 
knows all our weaknesses and frailties. “Judge not, 
that ye be not judged.” Is there no reward for struggles 
with sin that are unsuccessful? Is a soldier’s grave less 
sacred and dear because he fell when our flag went down, 
and defeat came to our arms? Was not his heroism 
grander, and his courage put to a severer test, to fight 
against great odds, especially when he had been over- 
come many times by the same enemy? We are too apt 
to make success a criterion by which to judge the efforts 
of a man. 

Who does not know that the noblest men are those 
who have been overcome? When the history of our 
lives shall be read in the clear light of heaven, we shall 
doubtless find that easy victories are of less real worth, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 115 


than hard and desperate fought battles where we have 
gone down in the struggle, and triumph has seemed to 
be with our enemy. 

It was not his habit to write out in full his speeches, 
therefore some of his most brilliant passages lived only 
in his memory, and died with him. 

We have, however, been able to procure several, that 
were reported verbatim for the press, and give a good 
idea of his power and eloquence. 

The following address was delivered at Lynn, Mass., 
one Sabbath evening, shortly before he fell, but of course 
many of his finest illustrations and most powerful pas- 
sages are lost. But it partakes of his genius, and is 
therefore interesting : — 


“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, —‘ Men die, and principles 
live.’ When you and I have passed away, the princi- 
ples we helped to forward, if they are formed in right, 
will live on. 

“Immortality is written on every good deed and 
word; and when the earth is no more, when the stars 
have lost their brightness, and the sun ceases to shine, 
truth will stand, and not be moved. I appear before 
you to-night to say something to aid the cause of tem- 
perance. I am deeply interested in this subject. I 
have felt and seen the evils of intemperance as few men 
have. Iam not old, and yet God only knows to what 
depths of misery and sin I have sunken; and as I stand 
here to-night, and think of the pit from whence I have 
been digged, and see around me so many who are 
ready to help and sustain me, I am constrained to 
thank God for his goodness and mercy towards me. 


116 2 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


*T have been asked to give some incidents to-night 
from my own life. Iam willing to tell the story of the 


dark days through which I have passed, but I never 


_ speak of them without feeling my cheeks tingle with 
shame, that so much of my life has been lost, yes, worse 
than lost, — squandered. I regard the years that I was 
under the control of rum, as a blank in my existence, 
dark and awful. I shudder when I think how deep the 


iron has entered into my heart. Oh! my friends, I have ~ 


_ often prayed for the rocks and mountains to fall on me 
and hide me, so wretched was I; and therefore, as I 
revert to those days, I cannot repress a feeling of loath- 
ing and almost disgust for myself and those associated 
with me in the crime and degradation of my years of 
intemperate drinking. Again, I repeat, I do not like to 
refer to my days of dissipation and ruin, and would not, 
did I not think I might thereby be instrumental in sav- 
ing some young men who hear me, from going where I 
have wandered, and suffering what I have suffered. I 
cannot begin to express in language the feeling I have 
for the men who led me on, step by step, by associating 


with me while my money lasted, andthe moment I 


needed help, cast me off. I have stood in the streets of 
New York, with nowhere to lay my aching, weary head, 
homeless and friendless. I have stood thus, and seen 
those men who have had the benefit of my money, when 


I was using it freely and unsparingly, pass me by with- 


out so much as noticing me by a nod; and I want to tell 
the flashy young men whom the bar-keeper receives with 
a hearty shake of the hand, and a pleasant smile, that if 
by his stock in trade you become unfortunate, you will 


ms al 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. © Hated 


be kicked from his store, and not be known by him, 
when he meets you on the street. I know this is so, for 
_ Thave felt the cutting of this kind, as few have, for my 
nature is sensitive to the slightest touch. What these 
men want is your money, and there is no use to talk of 
friendship formed over the wine-cup. It is not lasting 
nor real. I remember, one bitter cold night, I had 
been drinking hard all day, and this evening had spent 
all my money in a saloon, and when it came time for 
the shop to be closed, I was told by the keeper to 
‘travel.’ I begged to sleep on the floor, anywhere ; 
but no, I was taken, and by force shoved into the 
street. I wandered up and down the street for about 
an hour, when I saw the door of a place where horses 
were kept, open. 

“TI made the best of my way there, and crept into a 
corner where there was some hay or straw, and went 
to sleep. arly in the morning, the man who came to 
feed the horses, discovered me, and told me to get out. 
I looked up at him, and saw in a moment that he was 
one of my professed friends while I had money, and now 
that I had none he would not let me sleep with his 
horses. I repeat it, there is no real friendship among 
such men; they will shun you, after they help ruin 
you. 

“In 1860 I found myself homeless, and a vagabond in 
the streets of New York; but I was not always in that 
condition. I stood, as many of these young men stand, 
thinking myself safe, while I sailed on the river of 
moderate drinking, without one thought of the danger 
below. Friends cried out for me to stop, but I heeded 


118 _ UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


not their warning voices. I said, ‘I will stop before it 
is too late,’ as some of you have often said. 

“Were you ever at Niagara Falls? Ihave stood spell- 
bound, as I have looked at the mighty rushing and foam- 
ing of the water, as it went seething, boiling, and tumbling 
over the rapids and falls, sending mountains high the 
white spray, which by the magic hand of refraction was 
turned into all the colors of the rainbow, making the ~ 
grandest scene mortal eye ever gazed upon. 

* After I had feasted my eyes on this sight for a little, 
the guide asked me to walk up the bank of the river, 
and he would show me the place where a few years ago 
a sad accident happened to two lovely boys. A mother 
and these children were visiting this place, and the boys 
got into a boat to row along the bank, to collect some 
flowers. Unconsciously they neared the rapids, when 
their mother lifted up her voice, urging them to return ; 
but they knew when to turn, they said, and still rowed 
on, when all at once the boat was tossed hither and 
thither, and to their great surprise they found themselves 
‘in the midst of the rapids. They grasped the oars, and 
pulled for dear life, but too late! too late! They looked 
and saw their mother kneeling on the bank, praying for 
them. One more look, and over the falls they went, 
lost to friends and home forever. 

“Let me tell You, moderate drinkers, here this even- 
ing, you are on a more dangerous river than those boys 
who went over the falls. It was such an impressive 
temperance lecture, that I never forgot it. Yes, when Ll 
began to think of my course, the fear I should die a 
drunkard took hold of me so powerfully that I would 
kneel down and ask God to help me to reform. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. “19 


* You, who have not felt the awful feeling that comes 
over the poor drunkard, when he realizes the low con- 
dition he has placed himself in, and feels his power to 
lift himself up gone, cannot comprehend my condition 
at this time; if there is one here situated as I was then, 
perhaps he may appreciate my case. Ido not refer to 
these days with any other feeling than of shame and 
sadness. 

“T regret to say, that I have seen and heard men tell 
their experience in such a manner as to give the impres- 
sion that they were, on the whole, proud of their course. 
But God forbid I should tell this story in any other 
way, except with deep humiliation and sorrow. 

“But, my friends, I feel to-night like letting the ‘dead 
past bury its dead’); and, God helping me, I mean to act 
in the present, and try in the future to redeem the 
past. | 
“God forbid that I should glory amid so much shame. 
I have walked throngh villages and heard the ringing 
laugh of the returning school-children, and as I looked 
_on them in all their purity, untainted by the touch of sin, 
and unpolluted by crime, O, how my whole soul and 
body prayed God to keep them from what I have passed 
through ! fora man can never beso pure and good again, 
who has felt the fire on his heart. And so do I plead 
to-night with the young, to not enter into the shadows 
of this great evil; to give all their life to virtue and 
temperance, to keep themselves pure as the snow on the 
mountains nearest the clouds. 

“Did you ever on a clear night stand on some hill and 
gaze at the stars? And as you have looked at the count- 


TUE ede | UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Jess numbers of little stars that only just show their light, 
have you never thought that perhaps they are larger 
and more beautiful than the sun itself? for the most 
beautiful things of earth are seen the least. So let these 
young men who are not bright and shining lights in this. 
age, remember God sees the little stars in all their 
glory and grandeur. He knows how large they are, 
and so every good deed you do for yourselves or your 
weak neighbor may not be visible to the eye of man, but 
God sees and rewards you. Remember, no matter 
where God has put us in the world, he expects us to do 
our whole duty, to follow out the noble promptings of 
the heart which tells us to go into all the world and help 
those who are unfortunate. Yes, ‘ Dare to be ee Dare 
to be noble, Dare to be right.’ 

“My friends, this cause is God’s holy cause. In its 
behalf the most sincere prayers are going up to Heaven 
every day from worse than broken hearts. Yes, from 
crushed and bleeding hearts, from those whose sky of 
life is starless, around whose homes no flowers bloom, 
no birds sing, and happy voices of children are unknown ; , 
but they pray for you and for me, and as the wife looks 
on one she has loved, once noble and generous, and of 
whom she was proud, when she stood by his side and 
heard him promise to love, honor, and protect her while 
life should last, now sunk low in the scale of humanity, 
almost like the very beast, she does not cease to hope 
and pray for his redemption, and for the prosperity of 
this great work. 

“ There are homes for us to brighten, haat from which 
to lift the burden of despair, forsaken and starving 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 121 


children to look after and care for, and to save from ever 
touching the accursed cup of death. And the field is 
white for the harvest, and indeed it is true that the 
laborers are few. All around us on every breeze comes 
the cry forhelp. We want men, —self-sacrificing men, — 
men of large hearts and strong hands, who are ready to 
do with their might whatever their hands find to do. 
Why, for a moment, suppose all those who profess 
to love Christ should awake to the enormity of the great | 
evil of intemperance, and resolve to do all they could to 
wash it out, what would be the result? We would 
shake this country from centre to circumference, and in 
the shaking, drive every man engaged in the rum busi- 
ness out of it, and the air of America would be fragrant 
with the principle of total abstinence. 

“Let us fling out the truth, write it in letters of living 
light by day, and fire by night. Let the press bear it to 
the remotest corner of civilization. Let temperance 
literature be scattered as leaves of autumn. Let the 
pupil thunder in its defence. Yes, let the truth be borne 
aloft on the wings of every breeze. Let us catch inspira- 
tion from the glorious opportunities opening before us, 
for work and for noble action. Let those who sigh for 
higher horizons, and wider fields, labor where they are ; 
and, sir, we shall have our reward, not only in the fact 
that we have done our duty, but that we have helped 
some one else to come up higher in the fight, and he that 
is instrumental in saving a soul it shall cover a multitude 
of sins.” 


122 UNIAC: HIS LIFE. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


PERSONAL EXPERIENCE — HARD STRUGGLES — SPEECHES, 
EXTRACTS, ETC. 


THouGcH he was now fairly in the temperance work, 
and the public seemed to have the greatest confidence in 
his ability to stand, his nearest friends knew that he stood | 
as it were upon the brink of a precipice. He would 
often come to me, and taking my hand say, “O, I need 
your help and sympathy, my old enemy is raging.” At 
times when hardly any one thought of his falling, his _ 
intimate personal friends were often called to go with him 
on some of his lecture tours, so fearful was he that if 
left alone, he would not be able to withstand the tempta- 
tions that were surrounding him. I well remember, one 
day in 1867, while he was speaking for prohibition in 
Massachusetts, he had an engagement. in Worcester 
County. Just before the train started, he called on me; 
his face was pale, and his eyes looked as though he had 
been passing through an exhausting sickness. I asked 
him what the matter was, and he told me in these words: 
“Thave been fighting; yes, I have had almost to lock 
myself into my room, and have run from my home to you, 
fearing to go slowly.” I took his hand, and it was coy- 
ered with a cold sweat, and I saw where, in his nervous 
excitement, he had drove the nails of his fingers into the 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 123 


palm of his hand in his effort to conquer his appe- 
tite. He continued, “Unless you go with me to-night, 
I shall fall.” I went, and at the conclusion of his speech 
he said, “ I have once more come off the victor.” 

Knowing these facts, his ultimate fall was not a great 
surprise to those who knew him best. He was now con- 
sidered the best temperance speaker before the public 
who was continually in the work. 

At the battle of Antietam, Uniac was present and took 
part in that terrible fight, and as there were one or two 
very thrilling incidents which came under his obser- 
vation, and which he has related to the edification of 
thousands all over the land, we deem it best to 
give the principal one in his own language, as near as 
possible. . 

At the close of a Christian convention held at Music 
Hall, Boston, he was called to the platform to speak, 
and had proceeded a few moments, when a request was 
placed before him, that he would give to the audience 
-his celebrated charge at the battle of Antietam; after a 
few preliminary remarks, he spoke as follows : — 


“Word was given to the regiment to prepare for the 
charge; every man stripped himself to the waist, — it 
was to be a desperate affair, and everything that impeded 
their progress must be cast aside, — knapsacks, haver- 
sacks, and blankets were flung to the ground, and the long 
line of beating hearts and strong arms stood with their 
bayonets glistening in the sun, waiting the word. It 
was to decide the fate of the day, perhaps the fate of the 
nation. It was a desperate effort of General Lee to 


124 . UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


march through the North. In a moment, a faint sound ~ 
_ could be heard, as of a distant voice; it grew louder, and 
was caught by the aids, until it reached the colonel of 
the regiment, who, striking the spurs into his horse, 
leaped to the front, and waving his sword, cried ‘ Follow 
me! forward at double quick!’ Like lightning they 
dash over the field in the face of belching cannon, while 
a perfect shower of bullets rained upon their devoted 
heads, thinning their ranks at every step; still they close 
up; the first battery is reached, to take it is but the work 
of a moment; the rebel gunners are killed and scattered 
in an instant, for these men are terribly in earnest, as 
the blood of their comrades is flowing all around them.. 
There is yet a plain to cross, and one more battery to 
silence ; forward they rush, over the dead and dying, — 
shot and shell, canister and grape, are mowing them 
down fearfully. They do not falter nor turn; the plain 
‘is crossed, the battery reached, which the rebels defend 
manfully, until both flags mingle in the conflict. Now 
one is up, and now the other; at last the stars and 
‘stripes stay up, while the stars and bars trail in the dust. 
The rebel line begins to falter, stagger from right to left ; 
the centre breaks; the enemy is flying; the day is ours; 
the country honored, and the little band of the regiment 
who have survived the charge, rest on their arms on 
the dearly bought ground, wet with precious blood, 
while the sun has gone down, and the stars of heaven 
are looking pityingly down on the dying and the 
dead.” 
Itis the night after the battle, and those who are spared 
and have kind hearts go over the field to minister unto 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 125 


those who are suffering distress and agony, and among 
those thus nobly engaged, is Uniac; and. as he wanders 
over this terrible spot, the weak voice of a dying man 
calling to him, attracts his attention; he hastens to his 
side, and resting his head on his lap, listens to his story. 
‘I have fought my last fight, knowing that I shall not 
see those I love again. Comrade, take a message to 
these dear friends of mine.’ By a desperate effort he 
raises himself, takes a locket which is concealed under 
his coat, and straining his eyes, now almost glassy with 
the touch of death, he kisses it, hands it to Uniac, and 
says ‘Take this to my mother,’ and, as asmile of triumph 
sparkled in his eye, said ‘ Tell her to thank God I was not 
conquered: by intemperance, but shall fill an honored sol- 
dier’s grave’; and his spirit had gone to the camping 
grounds of heaven. This scene so affected him, that he 
said, as he learned more of the dead soldiev’s life, that it 
was one of the best temperance lectures he ever heard. 
It must have been a help, struggling as he was with his 
life’s enemy, for here was a man praising God, even in 
death, that he had escaped the drunkard’s awful fate. 
There were other thrilling incidents connected with this 
bloody field through which he passed, and he said in 
after years, that'in the midst of all these exciting times, 
there was one thought ringing in his ears, which was, 
‘Shall I escape all these perils and at last be conquered 
by rum?’ Who shall say that he did not struggle and 
labor for his own salvation? Earth’s grandest heroes are 
found amid the struggling, weak, and weary-hearted men 
who are trying to conquer themselves. In referring to 
himself one evening, he said : — 


126 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“In 1861, I joined the army, but its fortunes did not 
make me a sober man; on the contrary, I revelled in 
crime, being sober only when intoxicating liquors were 
kept from me by army regulations. By the mercy of 
God, in the thirteen battles in which I was engaged, I 
was a sober man; in the last of these battles I was 
taken prisoner, and was obliged for six months to share 
the horrors of Libby Prison and Belle Island. 

“While in this desolate condition, the example of a 
comrade, who had gone forth under the same flag, and 
had braved the same dangers with me, made a deep 
impression on my mind. He was shot by the rebel 
guard for taking a piece of food, just as he was about 
to put it to his lips. It was a terrible sight. His 
dying words were, ‘I have kept the pledge, and die in 
the faith of my Maker.’ 

“Every day of my life I made resolutions to reform, 
and abandon drinking, but they were soon broken. But 
when I abandoned my own strength, and fell on my 
_ knees before Christ, and trusted upon divine aid alone, 
then was I enabled to break loose from temptation, and 
become a sober man.” 


In 1867 and 1868, he spoke in various parts of the 
country, quite often appearing before lyceums. ‘The 
following is an extract trom a speech on the temperance 
question delivered at Tremont Temple not very long 
before his fall. 


“This is a period in the history of the country when 
all men should feel sober; this is eminently a time for 
persons to think and act with sobriety in all things.. We 


yey 


é 
STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 127 


should not rely too much on the enthusiasm of the mo- 
ment, emanating from high sources in the country. 

“Besides this, it is the duty of temperance men to 
give facts to the people. The question naturally arises, 
both to the speaker and the audience, What real and 
lasting good has been accomplished by the advocate of 
temperance? Has there been any seed sown that will 
grow into the bud, the blossom, and the full-grown fruit? 
The subject of temperance, you are aware, is an old one, 
and our opponents have declared it stale, flat, and ap- 
parently unprofitable. It has been flung from the lec- 
ture-rooms in the land to give place to something more 
attractive, so that men who set much value upon their 
time and talents, avoid the advocacy of this cause as 
unprofitable. <A life of devotion to any other calling is 
sure to bring profit. 

“Labor and sacrifice to any other reform often se- 
cure a competency, and fling wide open the gates of 
social life. Under these circumstances, we have our 
reward in the consciousness of duty done. Is there 
any hope for the triumph of the temperance cause? 
Will time never scrape the inscription from the tomb- 
stones of this inefficiency? Ah! there is hope! I am 
always hopeful. I believe that the good day is coming, 
when it will be considered both respectable and fashion- 
able everywhere to advocate the cause of temperance. I 
can even now catch the glowing inspiration of that golden 
age when this truth will universally prevail. When 
right shall triumph over passion and appetite, when the 
sickly sentimentalism that has taken possession of the 
morals of the people shall have been cast out, and a 


128 , UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


pure love of humanity shall have taken its place. Then — 


shall the Lord Jesus Christ be known and honored by 
all men ; then the living God shall be cherished as much 
as mammon is worshipped to-day. I have faith in every 
scheme for the amelioration of mankind, though thou- 
sands may perish in the struggle between right and 
wrong, truth and error. It matters not, victory will 
come, quivering with the light of truth and justice! Do 
you think me too sanguine? It will be soif our friends 
pursue unwearingly the path of duty. I believed that 
slavery, long before the rebellion, would perish, be- 
cause God never intended that man should be ground 
down to the earth. I had faith in the success of the 
Union cause in the darkest days of our war. This faith 
never forsook me; it flashed across my mind long before 
the hour of victory; its inspiration made me love to 
sleep upon the frozen ground; it warmed into life the 
chilly atmosphere of my prison cell; and it chanted the 
requiem of heaven over the consecrated dust and the 
unmarked graves of my fellow-soldiers. It was the 
strength of this great principle of faith that led me to 
buckle on my knapsack when the tocsin.of war sounded, 
and inspired me to keep it on until I escaped from prison, 
and once more caught a glimpse of the home I loved so 
well; and until, on the ninth of April, 1865, I saw Lee 
deliver his men as prisoners to Gen. Grant ;— and then 
I took it off, and returned to civil life once more. But 
I cherish that knapsack still. 

* But to return to our subject. You may ask me what 
delays this reformation in which we are so much inter- 
ested. ‘The first reason is because the business of rum- 


| 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. Palas ph oo 


selling is a profitable calling. Money is made rapidly 
and easily, and when we attack the pocket of that class 
of men, they fight desperately, and do all in their power 
to retard our movements. While this business is so 
profitable to the seller, it is quite the reverse to the 
consumer; it destroys health, makes demons of men, 
and ruins both soul and body, and brings in its train both 
widows and orphans. Another reason is in the fact that 
law gives the business a color of respectability. It 
defends the vender in his so-called rights. The rum- 
seller is received into society, and elected to places of 
emolument and trust; his family is respected. What do 
the people seem to care for the source from which a 
man’s wealth comes, notwithstanding the very ermine 
in which they are clothed smells of whiskey? Blackstone 
once said, ‘ Law isa rule of action, it is a good princi- 
ple’; but if Blackstone lived to-day, and saw our legis- 
lation, he might change the definition a little, and might 
see a rule of action prescribed, prohibiting every man 
from interfering with the rights of rumsellers. Does 
not every legislature know that the use of intoxicating 
liquors is detrimental to the interests of the community, 
and still the statutory patchwork of laws regulating the 
sale of liquors, is not calculated to advance the moral 
and social interests of mankind. We need to elect by 
our votes men who will be true to temperance at -the 
State House, as well as at the fireside. Every energy, 
every resource should be brought to bear in our cause. 
I maintain that every rumseller knows that it is a crime 
to traffic in liquor, and no one dares to fill a glass with 
the poisonous fluid and then go home to his family and 
9 


130 UNIAC: HIS ‘LIFE, 


then kneel and ask the blessing of God on his business. — 


But our cause is God’s cause, and we can pray in faith 
for his blessing to descend on our efforts; all that is 
good and noble responds to our work. 


‘¢ Our cause is like the cedar, 
It knoweth not decay ; 
Its strength shall bless the mountains 
Till mountains pass away, 
Its tops shall greet the sunshine © 
Its leaves shall drink the rain.” 


“The great hope of our cause, however, is in the 
education of the people by moral and religious efforts. 
All can do something in this work. I recollect many a 
bitter night when I have stood at the intersection of 
Ninth Street and Broadway, N. Y., without a cent in 
my pocket, and without a friend in the world, when 


I would have been glad to have heard a kind, encourag- ~ 


ing word. We should not forget that the most degraded 
and fallen is an immortal being who will live on forever, 
long after the sun, moon, and stars shall have faded and 
passed away. I would counsel kindness for the unhappy 
inebriate, and commiseration for his faults, for he is 
dragged down and trampled under the hoof of a demon, 
and his struggles against the bonds that bind him are 
often long and desperate. Reach out your hands and 


lift him up, throw around him the sympathy and paint — 


for him the bright future which is possible. No man 
has sunken so low in the scale of human degradation as 
not to be affected by your efforts, and when you see him 
walking erect with manhood written on every feature 
only a little lower than the angels, and in the image of 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 131 


his Maker, and feel that you have been instrumental in 
thus raising him, the blessed consciousness of duty done 
and humanity benefited will be your reward. The 
inebriate never forgets the height from-which he has 
fallen. In the darkest days of my dissipation I often 
remembered my home and the scenes of my childhood. 

*In 1860, I found myself homeless and a vagabond, in 
the streets of New York. Iwas not alwaysso. Istood, 
as many of these young men stand, thinking myself safe 
while I sailed smoothly on the river of moderate drink- 
ing. I never thought any danger could come from my 
drinking. Some of my friends entreated me to stop, as 
I do you. I replied, ‘I will stop before it is too late.’ 
Ah! how many a poor drunkard has said that! How 
have I cried out in the bitterness of my soul, ‘O! that I 
had heeded the warning voice of friends long ago!’ If 
" you persist, you will stand where I stood, and may never 
be able to break the thraldom of sin and misery that will 
bind you soul and body. ‘Turn, then, before it is too 
late. 

*T have been called a fanatic, too much in earnest 
about this matter. Go, suffer what I have! Go, feel 
the iron enter deep into your heart; have wife, children, 
friends, and all that is dear on earth, torn from you, and 
then come and see if you can talk moderately on this sub- 
ject. Iwould that my tongue might be touched as with 
a live coal from off the altar of God, that I might in 
words that burn, and thoughts that breathe, picture this 
evil. If it is fanatical to stand between the young men 
of the Jand, and dishonored graves, to help the weak to 
stand, to soothe the dying man who has lost all by this 


132 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


vice, to banish by my vote, voice, and influence the rum 
traffic from the streets, then am I a fanatic, and I glory 
in the title.” 


Before he delivered this speech he was intensely ner- 
vous and uneasy, remarking “that he never felt weaker, 
and never had such a dread of facing an audience as on 
this evening.” After he had. spoken in this strain for a 
few moments, he looked me in the eyes, and putting his 
hand on my shoulder, said, “Do you know what this 
feeling is?” I replied that I did not, except that he had 
been working very hard of late, and must be fatigued. 
“No, no; that is not it,” says he, “it is an attack of my 
old enemy. He has been whispering all day to me like 
this. ‘You need something to stimulate. Just a little 
will inspire you and help you,’ and it is only by the 
grace of God that Iam enabled to say, Get thee behind 
me, Satan.” 

But the large crowd that greeted and cheered him 
made him strong again, and the next morning, though 
much exhausted by his effort, he was cheerful and ~ 
happy. 

As that large concourse of people sat that night spell- 
~ bound by his eloquent and impassioned words, which 
fell “like apples of gold in pictures of silver,” little did 
they even dream of the mighty change that was soon to 
come over him. Now manhood was seen in his move- 
ments, and he seemed inspired by an angel. But alas! 
* Let him that thinketh he stand, take heed lest he fall.” 
For no man who has ever been under the power of this 
appetite is safe, while this traffic in souls and bodies is 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 133 


carried on in every city and town of our nation under the 
name of the liquor business.” 

Thousands and thousands of drunkards reel through 
this country to-day, and nearly every one of them 
might be saved to God and their friends, if this business 
of “drunkard making” could only be stopped; but, 
while it goes on, seventy thousand. of this staggering army 
will drop into dishonored graves every year, —while, 
reader, from your sons and daughters perhaps, the ranks 
will be kept full. How long, O how long, must this con- 
tinue? When will we understand and comprehend the 
magnitude of this question? How many more hearts 
must bleed and break? How many more homes must be 
broken up and scattered? God hasten the glad day when 
our people, inspired of heaven, baptized with a spirit of 
devotion to humanity and their country, shall make the 
air of America too pure for arumseller to breathe in, and 
our streets the highways of virtue and safety. 

The following letter is quite significant when we remem- 
ber what soon followed : — 


“I never have been so ‘used up’ with my labors as 
now; my friends all say I need rest, and I presume they 
are right, but you know how hard it is for me to give 
up when there is anything for me to do in the line of 
temperance. When I feel physically weak there is a 
whispering within me saying, ‘Stimulate; it will help 
you’; and Ido not dare to give up my efforts in the 
temperance line, for I shall be more exposed to the 
attacks of my appetite. I confess I feel sometimes a 
little discouraged when I think of my own action — that 


134 ‘UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


I have placed myself ‘under bonds’ during my natural 
Jife, that I dare not do what others do, but still I sup- 
pose this is my cross, and I shall try and bear it; and by 
the help of. Him who was tempted in all points even as 
we are, I trust I shall come off the victor. You know 
he that conquers himself is greater than he that takes a 
city. I desire in all confidence to tell you that I have 
felt unusually despondent of late, and my appetite at 
times has come over me with great power, and were it 
_ not for many kind friends who cluster and gather around 
me, I should almost feel like giving up the contest. 
Were it not cowardly, I feel sometimes as though that, 
God willing, I could lay down my earthly arms and enter 
on that new life. How many of us would feel more so, 
did we not have a dread of the ‘unknown country ’ that 
lies over the dark stream of death. I trust, however, 
this gloomy state of mind is only temporary, caused by 
my health, and in a few days I hope to assume my usual 
good spirits. 

“Last evening I had a glorious sail, and was on the 
water when the sun went down, and I watched a little 
while and saw daylight deepen into night, and gazing in 
the direction of the east, I saw a faint streak of light ; 
and gradually it grew brighter and brighter, till the great, 
round, silver moon began to come up, appearing like a 
ball of fire rising out of the water. Did you ever see 
the moon come out of the ocean? If not, let me tell 
you it will pay you to come down here and see the grand . 
spectacle. How,I could not help thinking, as the moon 
capped the waves witha silver tint, how.many poor fel- 
lows sleep away down deep among the dark caves of the _ 


% 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 135 


sea. And in that day when the trump shall call the 
‘quick and dead’ to come forth, then from this grand 
expanse of water those who have gone down to the sea 
in ships, and have met storms that were too much for 
them, and have gone down amid the roar of the winds 
and the splashing of the waves, will appear. 

“And I could but think how many there are in the 
storms of life, who after fighting for along while find it 
too severe, and they have to yield and go down. We 
don’t know how hard the poor sailor fought before he 
gave up his ship; perhaps he lashed himself to the mast 
after he found he could not stand alone, and then I doubt 
not he prayed to the God of storms for help. 

“And O, my dear friend, how little does the world 
know how hard may a poor fellow fights before he 
gives up to the power of the temptation of life. Yes, 
many a man has gone down like the Cumberland, with 
flags flying and cannons firing. And the world speaks 
of his yielding to his desire, when perhaps it was far 
from his desire or wish. But I will not weary you. I 
felt like telling how I felt, and have let my pen run 
till I fear you will not care to follow me through all I 
have written.”’ 


There is something about this letter different from any 
other that we have read. And we cannot repress the 
conviction that he had let the thought enter his mind 
_ that he might have to give up notwithstanding all he had 
endured, and the long time he had stood. Perhaps, 
however, this may have been only a general survey of 
those questions that were in his mind ‘so often. There 


136 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


have been those who have asked if he was not in the 
habit of drinking occasionally when he was in the public 
temperance work. We trust those who have read what 
has been recorded here, are by this time well satisfied of 
the utter impossibility of such a thing. If we could 
close this story with this chapter, what a grand triumph 
would it present ‘of a man over a depraved appetite. 


How would it encourage the men who have sunken low. 


in the scale of human degradation. But, alas! we-must 
with fidelity to our duty record the saddest part of this 
changing life, and show how low a man may sink even 
when he has risen higher than his ambition ever dared to 
hope, for it may be said witb all truth that at this time 
Uniac was without a peer in the line of descriptive speak- 
ers, with perhaps one exception. He was praised and 
flattered on every hand, offers came to him to enter the 
lyceum lecture-field, and in a financial view the induce- 
ments were very tempting. One of the leading papers 
of Massachusetts, in speaking of his last lecture previous 
to his unfortunate trip to Connecticut, said: “It is now 
some three years since this eloquent temperance orator 
visited us, and we confess we were surprised and delighted 
with the decided progress he has made; for, in beauty of 
language,power of description, and impassioned eloquence 
we have never listened to anything superior than his 
effort last night. At one time the house would be almost 
painfully still, and then worked up to the highest pitch 
of enthusiasm. We hope we may soon be favored with 
his presence again.” 

Thus on the highest round of triumph in the line of his 
work we see this man to-day. But where shall we find 
him to-morrow ? 


oe eee 
> S- ee 
Sp ne ‘ 
2. or 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 137 


CHAPTER XIV. 
CIRCUMSTANCES OF HIS FALL. 


Dvurine the fall and winter of 1868 and 1869, Mr. 
Uniac was travelling and lecturing night and day in all 
kinds of weather, for he seldom failed to keep an engage- 
ment. In one instance he walked nine miles to meet an 
appointment; and arriving at the place of meeting, went 
on to the platform and spoke for nearly two hours, and 
returned afterwards to his room very much exhausted. | 

As might have been expected, this constant labor 
affected his health, and he began to show signs of break- 
ing down. He complained of feeling weak and tired, 
and his friends advised him to take time to rest and 
- recruit his energies; but his love for the cause of tem- 
perance, and desire to speak in its behalf were so great, 
that it seemed almost impossible for him to decline 
an invitation to lecture. When pressed for a reason 
for working when he needed rest, he said, “I feel safer 
from my old enemy when I am fighting him in the field 
of active work.” 

There is no doubt but what he feared for himself 
when he began to be in poor health, and thus kept on 
when he ought to have rested ; for all reformed men tell 
us that they need the will that comes from a good physi- 
cal condition to resist successfully the attacks of their 


138 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


foe. He passed through the winter of 68, and in the 
following spring spoke of taking a long rest; but his 
anxiety to help the cause induced him to accept engage- 
ments in March. Among the invitations received and 
accepted was one from an Irish temperance society in 
the State of Connecticut, for the evening of March 17th, 
to: celebrate St. Patrick’s Day in a rational and proper 
way. He had been informed that great preparations had 
been made for his reception, and he was so anxious to 
have a good lecture that he undertook to prepare a new 
one, all of the work on which was done at night, or 
between his other numerous engagements; and in the 
exhausted condition to which we have alluded, this extra 
effort was too much for him. : 

The day arrived for him to go, and found him quite 
unwell. He conferred with several friends as to the 
expediency of telegraphing the society to postpone the 
lecture, and was advised to do so; but after thinking 
the matter over, made up his mind to undertake to 
fulfil his engagement. ; 

He felt the power of appetite as he had not for months, 
and went to several friends and invited them to go with 
him; but as he did not inform them of the great danger 


he feared from the power of his all-pervading appetite, | 


and the weakness of his physical system, they happening 
to have other engagements, declined accompanying him. 
He was then recommended to take some quinine bit- 
ters, which was said to be good to build up and strengthen 
the system. On his way to the Boston and Albany 
depot, he stepped into an apothecary store and inquired 
for the quinine bitters. The clerk took down a bottle, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 139 


and Uniac, taking it in his hand, said, “Do you know 
me, sir?” ‘The man said,“ Yes, this is Mr. Uniac, the 
temperance orator.” —“ Well, then, you know,” says 
Uniac, “that I can take nothing that has alcohol in it ; 
have these bitters anything of the kind in them?” The 
apothecary answered, “Not enough to hurt anybody, 
if there is any. There may have been a few drops when 
they were first made put in to keep them, but still, know- 
ing you, I can cordially recommend them to you.” 

Uniac bought them,’ went to the depot, called for 
something to eat at the saloon there, and while waiting 
took a drink of the bitters, but did not like its taste, and 
leaving the bottle in the depot took the train for Con- 
necticut. After he had been in the cars a few moments, 
he felt a terrible craving for liquor, and feared the 
bitters must have contained alcohol. Arrived at the 
place of destination, the committee and others met him 
at the depot, and in the excitement he rose above his 
_ appetite. Without eating anything more, he went to 
the hall, found it crowded to repletion, and hundreds 
unable to gain admission, waiting on the outside. 

He was received with great and hearty enthusiasm. 
After music and singing, he was introduced, and made 
one of the best speeches of his life. Many who had 
heard him several times before, reported that they had 
. never listened to him when he was so eloquent and pow- 
erful as on this occasion. From the hall he went back 
to the hotel, several friends accompanying him. 

He was conscious.of a dizzy, sinking feeling, and 
while in this state, from: the best of evidence, we are 
inclined to think that brandy was administered to him,— 





140 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


probably from the best of motives, — for when he came 
to, his head throbbed and he had the burning sensation 
peculiar to men who have been drinking. He drank — 
water, but nothing seemed to quench his thirst. He 
said to himself, “ What shall I do? Would that I had 
one of my friends here to help me!” 

He looked at his watch, found a train was about due 
for Providence, R. I., hurried on his clothes, took his 
carpet-bag, ran for the depot, and arrived there, just in 
time to take the train. He arrived at Providence too late 
to connect with the Boston train, and there he was, in a 
strange city, in this terrible condition, his aroused appe- 
tite continually crying, Give! Give! Give! 

He walked backward and forward on the platform, 
and then a few steps down the street, and finally entered 
a store purporting to be a grocery store, for the purpose 
of getting a glass of milk and acracker. As he entered 
he saw several men drinking whiskey. The air was 
loaded with the smell of it. He struggled until great 
drops of sweat stood on his forehead, but he was too 
weak. ; 

Some one who had been drinking, said, “That is 
excellent whiskey, it makes me feel better.” 

Poor Uniac was gone; he grasped the bottle madly, 
and filled a tumbler almost to the*brim; draining it to 
its dregs, called for more; for appetite had triumphed 
and was now the master. He drank two or three times 
before the train came, then filled a flask, got aboard the 
cars, and started for Boston. How different from when 
he left home! What a fall was there! 

On the way his condition was noticed by several pas- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 141 


sengers; still it was not generally known in Boston for 
several days. He went from Boston to Lawrence to see 
a dear friend of his, and it was in the streets of that city 
that he was first seen by the public intoxicated. 

The next morning an item appeared in one of the Law- 
rence papers in regard to his breaking the pledge, and 
in an uncharitable manner stated the facts in the case. 

It was now all over with Uniac. His friends at Law- 
rence did all they could for him, but to no purpose. He 
came back to Boston in disgrace, and spread consterna- 
tion among his friends, and caused sorrow and heartfelt 
pity wherever he was known. 

The news ran like wildfire. Every newspaper told a 
different story in regard to his life and fall. Uniac 
opened his heart, and with tears in his eyes told his 
friends the awful story of his fall as given above, which 
has been corroborated by unimpeachable testimony, so 
that it may be relied on as correct in every particular. 

His friends now rallied around him, and every possible 
effort was made to reclaim him. Letters poured in from 
every quarter, urging him in behalf of the cause to begin 
anew, and promising assistance of all kinds; but now, 
having broken ‘the spell, the struggle was fierce and des- 
perate. It was finally decided to take him to the Wash- 
ingtonian Home, in Boston, where he remained for a 
little time ; but feeling that if he could be farther removed 
from old associations, he would be more successful in his 
efforts to reform, he concluded to go to the Inebriate 
Asylum, at Binghamton, N. Y., then under the charge 
of that skilful superintendent, Dr. Albert Day. He 
started, accompanied by a friend, reached New York 


142 _ UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


without much difficulty, but while there had another 
drinking spell; but through the firmness of his compan- 
ion, he was finally prevailed upon to leave New York. 

He arrived at Binghamton the next morning, and was 
immediately placed under treatment at the asylum. Dr. 
Day expressed the hope that he would soon be master 
of his appetite, and stand erect and firm; but he had a 
dreadful ordeal to pass through, as only those who have 
had the same experience can understand or appreciate it. 

While there, letters continued to come to him from all 
parts of the Union, and, to show how he felt at that time, 
we will give a letter that we received from him, in reply 
to one sent there. 


Bineuamton, N. Y., 18—. 

“Dear Bro., — Your kind letter of sympathy and 
encouragement is received. : 

“Tt is as I expected. I thank you for your kind 
words, and did you know how I fought ere I yielded; 
you would not blame me as much as I fear some do. I 
have begun the fight anew, and by God’s help shall con- 

tinue it while life lasts. .I have often told you that my 
life was a struggle, but I never felt more determined to 
live and to die for the right than now. 

“ God bless all my friends for what they have done for 
me, and I know you will excuse me for not writing more 
at this time, as [ am very weak. 

“Fraternally yours.” 


Other friends received letters of a similar character, 
all regretting what had taken place and hoping for the 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 143 


best. The reader will notice the struggle comes out 
here, so that it can be seen and almost felt. 

When we consider to what heights he had risen as a 
public speaker in the short space of four or five years, 
and see what countless numbers of friends he had, his 
fall was indeed one of the most remarkable in all the his- 
tory of the temperance reform, and the cause of it must 
be indeed powerful. 

We can seem to understand how a disappointed, dis- 
heartened, poverty-stricken man may take drink to 
drown his sorrows if he has this appetite; but why a 
man like Uniac, with everything in life bright and hope- 
ful, and a future aglow with happiness, should take that 
into his mouth which should utterly ruin and darken 
that future, is a mystery which can only be solved by 
admitting the power of appetite as something uncontrol- 
lable. Rev. Theodore L. Culyer says, in the “ Inde- 
pendent ” of May 20, 1869, “It is nearly thirty years 
since my beloved friend, the unrivalled , first 
appeared before the public as a reformed inebriate. He 
has been doing ten men’s work ever since, and has 
addressed more auditors on both sides of the Atlantic 
than any living orator. With what a terrible emphasis 
does he warn his fellow-creatures against a single sip of 
the intoxicating glass! ‘I hate it,’ he often exclaims, 
with furious vehemence; ‘and I love to hate it!’ Yes, 
my noble brother, although a faithful member of Christ’s 
church, is ‘under bonds’ for a lifetime, to keep out of 
the sight, sound, or smell of spirituous liquors.” 

What shall we learn from these facts? Shall we aban- 
don our efforts to save the victims of intemperance? No! 





144 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


we must leave no means untried to lift up the fallen. J 


But one of the real lessons to be learned is to save the 
young from ever contracting habits of intoxication. 

This is the great hope of the reform. Ifthe question, 
Shall the coming man drink wine? is answered in the 
negative, this country is indeed safe. If in the affirma- 


tive, then will the foundation stones of our government — 


be unloosed, and the fair fabric of a grand republic totter 
and fall! In every part of the land men are tramping 
in solemn procession to drunkards’ graves, and if we are 
not able to prevent those who have already started, we 
can surely hinder others from joining them. 

There is also an unanswerable argument in the fall of 
this man, in favor of the principle of prohibition; for 
who shall say after reading his life, devoted to an almost 
constant struggle in trying to free himself from the 
power of rum-drinking, that he would have sought for 
it even at this time of desperation, if it had not been 
flaunting itself in his very face. Suppose in the city of 
Providence where he first took liquor, the prohibitory 
law had been as well executed as it is in the city of New 
Bedford, in the State of Massachusetts, where it is al- 
most impossible to purchase a glass of any kind of intoxi- 
cating liquor, because the municipal officers are elected 
and sustained on this. issue, Uniac would probably not 
have fallen; and hundreds of others, situated as he was 
then, would stand, were it not for the fact that on every 


street corner, 1n windows and on shelves, are displayed ~ 


in the most tempting manner these fascinating drinks. 


When Uniac entered the store to get something to eat, 


suppose it had been a temperance saloon, and he had 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 145 


been able to get what he entered for, it doubtless would 
in a measure have relieved him till the spell had passed ; 
and knowing that he could not procure liquor easily 
would also have given him strength and power. 

Hence, while we may found and endow asylums for the 
drunkard, and throw around him the circle of friendship 
and love, we shall never save our country from intem- 
perance, till we enact in every State in the Union a law 
prohibiting the sale of liquor, which shall be enforced 
_ by inen who have been elected for the purpose of doing 
this important work. But while many men who profess 
to love the temperance cause, and who talk long and loud 
for three hundred and sixty-four days in the year, and 
on the other (election day) walk to the ballot box and 
deposit their votes for men who will betray the cause 
into the hands of its enemies, we cannot hope for much 
real improvement in the moral condition of our large 
towns and cities. 

But when principle and not party shall be the rule of 
action, when men shall begin to fully comprehend the 
responsibility God has put into their keeping in the mat- 
ter of securing a wise and honest government, and an 
honest administration of the laws, then shall we see this 
land emerge from the cloud that hangs over it, and our 
people, if true to themselves, be a blessing to mankind, 
and the country an honor to the world. 

The fall of this man who had been so prominent in the 
temperance reform created discussion all over the coun- 
try, and it might be amusing, but perhaps not profita- 
ble, to read the different versions that were published in 
the newspapers of the day. Some who were not friendly 

10 


146 ‘UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


to the cause doubted his sincerity, and claimed he had 
not been faithful for a long time, while others declared 
that the cause came from disappointment in this or that 
direction. One paper said the recent loss of money was 
the occasion. for the immediate fall, and in fact all kinds 
of stories were presented to the people. 

A religious paper of New England, in referring to the 
work of rum at this time, truthfully said, “The most 
eminent newspaper man Boston ever produced, so far as 
business tact and success goes, died lately in the prime 
of his life, a victim of intemperance; the most popular 
temperance lecturer, with one exception, that this sec- | 
tion had ever known, has fallen a victim to his appetite. — 
Those two losses answer all the miserable talk about 
liberty and right to thus murder the souls and bodies of 
men. What thousands on thousands of cases belong to 
the same catalogue? Can any one doubt the duty of 
the State to save its children? But for the bar and the 
wine tables of the hotels, those gentlemen would be in 
life and honor. How long, O Lord! how long !” 

Dr. Albert Day, the skilful superintendent of the ine- 
briates’ asylum, at Greenwood, Mass., tells us that the 
general effect of excessive drinking, is to enlarge glob- 
ules of which the brain, the liver, and other organs are 
composed, so that the globules, as it were, stand open- 
mouthed, athirst, inflamed and most eager to be filled. 
Everything within the drunkard gapes and hungers for 
the accustomed stimulate. Dr. Day says he has known 
the old appetite, even after twenty years of strict absti- 
nence, burst out in full force, simply from the. medical 
use of a little wine. According to this testimony, from 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 147 


aman who had devoted his life to the study of this mat- 
ter, we account readily for the fall of Uniac. 

However much we may debate the cause, we say with 
Cuyler, “Let the doctors and debaters say what they 
will, the verdict of common-sense is, There is no safety 
but in total abstinence, and that from childhood.” 

The great point now with our subject, and with all 
those who loved him, was to have him regain his lost po- 
sition. It is not an easy thing to recover the confidence 
of the public in a matter of this kind, for a very little 
thing would create talk and speculation. And he, being 
by nature impulsive, did not seem to have the patience 
to work his way slowly back into the hearts of the peo- 
ple; he scemed rather to desire to leap with one stride 
back to his former position, and felt discouraged because 
he could not. We shall not forget the occasion of our 
first meeting, after his fall. We met, and taking each 
other by the hand, neither spoke for a moment, when 
tears began to run down his cheeks, and he trembled all 
over like a leaf. I was the first to break the silence, 
and gradually he became calmer, and proceeded to give 
me a detailed account of his misfortune. If ever a 
man showed sincere sorrow for an action, this man did 
for his false step. After conversing with me for some 
time, he said, “ Well, I only know what I must pass 
through to piace myself where I stood a short time ago, 
and I pray God to give me patience and perseverance to 
continue until the end.” Yes, I thought, poor fellow, 
you must indeed have patience and faith, for the fight 
will be a hard one, and the result uncertain. Some people 
do not see how it is possible for a man who has re- 


148 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


mained sober for years, to go back to his cups, through 
the power of the old appetite. But there are too many 
instances on record for us to doubt the truth of it. I 
remember one day I had the pleasure of dining with a 
man who has been a total abstainer for nearly thirty 
years, and in conversation on this point, his wife re- 
marked : — 

“Why, my dear sir, though it is nearly thirty years 
since my husband signed the pledge, I would not dare to 
place on my table even preserves, if in their making 
there had been used never so small a quantity of wine or 
brandy.” Turning to him I said, “ Do you also fear that 
after you have controlled your appetite for so long a 
time, that. such a small quantity would revive its power?” 
“My wife has not overstated the matter, for even now 
I have days when there comes over me a desire for drink. 
You see, sir, it is impossible to ever forget the peculiar 
sensation of this powerful agent,” replied he. 

We often see merchants going into intemperance after 
they have met with some financial trouble, but in nearly 
every case, the habit of drinking had been contracted 
long years before; while the cases are very rare, where | 
men, who have been total abstainers from their youth 
‘up, ever fall into these habits, though they may meet 
with even worse disappointments. 

Thus a man who has at any time been intemperate, is 
in continual danger of being pushed into the rapids of 
despair by the power that he first admitted voluntarily into 
his system. When this question shall receive the atten- 
tion its importance demands, — when the children in our 
schools shall be educated and: informed as to the true 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 149 


character of alcoho], — cases like the one we are here 
recording will be indeed rare, for after all the discussion 
of the temperance question for the last forty years, it is 
astonishing how many peop.e we find who have not the 
slightest conception of the power of alcohol. Some peo- 
ple seem to look at the matter as of small consequence, 
to be stopped at any time when it shall be thought best, 
when it perhaps might take a generation for the evil 
effects to die out, if we should prevent the further use of 
the beverage to-day. 

But “Uniac has fallen,” and these words have fullen 
with a crushing weight upon many a heart, and the deep- 
est concern is manifested that he shall be saved. Letters 
pour in, asking if anything more can be done to help him. 

The following touching letter from a man Uniac had 
been instrumental in saving will show how men of this 
character felt about this sad matter. 


My prear Uniac, — Had I been struck with a blow 
from heaven, beneath a clear sky, I could not have been 
more stunned than I am by the news that has come to me 
that the enemy of your life has got the best of you. 

“O, my dear brother, I can never forget the day you 
came to my home, and helped me to stand; how your 
presence seemed to brighten our home; how my wife 
had once more a smile on her face; how our dear little 
one was happy again, and all the world seemed to grow 
better and better, and you, my staff, my hope, and almost 
my savior, has gone down where I was for so longa 
time. O, let the memory of the good you have done in 
homes like mine, inspire you to beat back the enemy, 


150 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


lash him under your feet, and stand up inall your glori- 
‘ous manhood. Let me remind you of the nighiI heard _ 
you lecture. I was induced by my wife to attend. I 
went ragged and dirty, bloated and miserable, and the 
words you spoke seemed to thrill my very soul; and as 
you spoke of a chance for all to become men, I saw for 
the first time for years that it was possible for me to be | 
aman. And when I signed the pledge, and you took 
my hand, and to encourage me came to my home and 
told me your story, and for two years I have been a 
sober man. And now you have gone down. O, I can- 
not write, for the tears blind my eyes. God help you 
to stand, is the prayer of one who loves you like a 
brother. 
* A ffectionately yours, 
Ve Be Ha? 


Doubtless this letter was of service in the contest, — 
for written on the back of it, were these words, “Is it 
possible that in my fall I may carry down men like 
these? God forbid; I will gird myself for a decided 
victory.” 

We will follow him in his efforts and see the result. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. Hu Meat 


CHABD ER XUV. 


DESPERATE STRUGGLE TO REGAIN HIS FORMER POSITION 


AFTER remaining at Binghamton for a short time, he 
was anxious to return to Boston; uneasy in his present 
condition, he now felt that he could gain faster among 
his friends. He was advised to remain under the care 
of Dr. Day for a longer time, but he sBag to return, 
and did so. 

This was the latter part of March or the first of April, 
and as his course about this time is familiar to nearly all 
_the temperance public, it will not be interesting for me 
to give it here. To say that it was a daily and hourly 
struggle for weeks and months is to tell the whole story. 
Sometimes he would be sober for two or three weeks. 
He had been sober for about three weeks, when on Fri- 
day of the week before the Peace Jubilee, we noticed 
that about him which led us to suppose he was having an 
unusual fight with his appetite. We were now with him 
almost every day and night, and it was arranged that we 
should stay by him. I slept with him that night. In the 
morning he got up before I did, said he felt stronger, 
and was going to the Boston and Maine Railroad depot, 
to meet a friend. The next I heard of him was that he 
had been seen intoxicated on the street, and after search- 


152 | UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


ing for him through the day and evening, found him at a 
saloon in Haymarket Square. After some persuasion I 
induced him to accompany me to a hotel. | 

The remainder of the week from this time was the 
most disgraceful of all his career. As during this time 
Boston was full of people from all parts of the country, 
his condition became widely known, and ‘some of his 
professed friends seemed to abandon him to his fate. 

Matters went on in this way until one morning I 
received a note, saying a man in the police station desired 
to see me. I hastened there, and found the prisoners 
had gone into court. I went in, and looking into the 
dock, among that array, with all kinds, I saw Uniac; his 
face bloated, his eyes blood-shot, hair dishevelled, clothes 
torn and dirty, and a look of utter despair in his eyes. 
_ As he caught sight of me, tears started down his cheeks, 
and he trembled and cried like a child. We succeeded 
in arranging matters with the court, so that he was dis- 
charged on a probation of six weeks, and from there he 
was carried to the private asylum, kept by Mrs. Dr. 
Fletcher, at No. 5 Asylum Street, of whom we had heard 
as an able and efficient doctor in this line. 

She received him cordially, the best room in the house 
was placed at his disposal, and here he began, under 
favorable. circumstances, to renew the struggle for life, 
character, and happiness. Under this skilful treatment, 
he soon began to mend, although very sick for about two 
weeks. When, in company with his medical attendant, he 
called upon me, he seemed to feel that this was his last 
effort, and he often said that if he fell again he should 
not live. When we said to him, “Why, you do not 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 153 


mean to say you would take your own life?” Stretching 
up to his full height, and looking me steadily in the eye, 
he said, “No, I am not such a coward as that; for 
though this fight is a hard one, I shall try and do my 
aity, leaving the result with God.” 

He trproved now rapidly, and grew strong and its 
cided ; everybody who knew him and valued his ser- 
vices was pleased and hopeful. We cannot, however, 
with fidelity to truth, omit to mention that there were 
some professed temperance people, who, instead of help- 
ing him, did everything to irritate and discourage him ; 
such as falsely accusing him of drinking, doubting his 
sincerity, and ide: before the public his private and 
sacred affairs; all of which to a man in his condition 
were peculiarly irritating and uncomfortable ; and as the 
consequence he was often discouraged and disheartened. 
It is not our purpose to attempt to prove that Uniac had 
no faults, that he did not often give his friends occasion 
for sorrow and even distrust. He was human, subject 
to all the frailties that flesh is heir to, but the facts in his 
whole career will prove that his life was not a common 
one, and that he had within him that which tended to 
drag down and debase him, the appetite for strong drink, 
which is being fed and strengthened to-day all over our 
country, by men who for money are trying to sell the 
future virtue and glory of the nation; and if this story, 
the facts of which are stranger and more thrilling than 
fiction, shall help arrest this tide of intemperance, it will 
at least have accomplished something, and the death of 
Uniace will not have been in vain. 

He now began to receive invitations to lecture again, 


154 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


and consulted with his friends in regard to it, and was 
generally advised to begin work as soon as he felt 
strong enough to stand. Now was perhaps the most 
trying position for him; with a keenly sensitive nature, 
he could hardly bear the humiliation that came over him 
as he faced for the first time after his fall an audience ; 
but he succeeded well, and began to be hopeful, and 
anxious to do something to help himself financially. 
Although when he fell he had quite a sum of money, he 
was now very much reduced, and in many instances, while 
under the influence of liquor, pawned his watch: and 
other valuables; but in this extremity he was not with- 
out noble-hearted friends who came to his aid with offers 
of pecuniary assistance. John B. Gough sent his check 
for a hundred dollars, and told him to draw on him for 
what he needed. 

Mr. Wm. B. Spooner, Rev. Wm. M. Thayer, James 
H. Roberts, and others assisted him in like manner, and 
it was the overwhelming and almost. crushing thought 
came to Uniac of what he had been, what he had lost, 
and his dependent position, that staggered him and made 
him doubt his ability to regain his lost standing. From 
this time on he grew stronger, and was regarded as once 
more himself. He spoke in various parts of the Com- 
monwealth; but still, from what his medical adviser . 
stated, the struggle was at times fearful. 

Every friend of temperance seemed now to be inter- 
ested in the struggle. One evening, Mr. Gough was 
speaking at Music Hall, and alluded to Uniac’ as fol- 
lows: “There is a case now published before us in the 
newspapers, that ought to excite the sympathy of every 
true-hearted man. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. LOD 


“Tt is of'a man that four years ago I saw in Camp 
Convalescent, a soldier fighting the battles of his country, 
but a slave to intemperance. I spoke in the morning, 
and I spoke in the evening to the soldiers. 

“T asked, ‘Who is that young man?’ and I was told 
that he was a lawyer who had spent a fortune of forty 
thousand dollars, and was one of the worst drunkards in 
the regiment. That man signed the temperance pledge. 

“TT remember that my wife who was present with me, 
said to him, ‘Be of good courage, and may God 
strengthen your heart in this fight.’ And he fought it 
for week after week. He fought that battle four years. 
I have no doubt that every day it was a struggle. I 
have no doubt he never saw the sight of drink without 
wanting it. I believe be has some affection for me; I 
know I have for him. He sent my wife a letter about 
ten days ago, —a letter that would draw tears from the 
eyes. He says, ‘You have been a true friend to me; 
Mr. Gough has spoken kind words to me. He ought to. 
know it. I have fallen.’ Fallen! Ah, who can tell 
the struggle in which he fell. How he was exhausted 
by labor, when he fainted away from his effort to do 
what he could, time after time for the advancement of 
the interests of temperance, and save the poor victims 
of this vice. And now he has fallen. Fallen? Uniac! 
No, it is not fallen! Uniac shall come up again, by 
God’s help, and stand the noble man he is. My home 
is open to him when he chooses to come, and he shall 
come there when he likes.” All this shows the power 
of the awful appetite for drink. ! 

In this connection, through the kindness of Mr. Gough, 


156 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


we are permitted to publish several very interesting 
letters. 


“No. 5 Asyztum Sr., Boston, July 20, 1869. 


* Joon B. Goucu, Esq. : 

* My dear Friend, —I am boarding and receiving 
medical treatment at the above number, the place now 
selected for me, and recommended to me, or rather to 
Rev. Wm. M. Thayer, by our mutual friend, James H. 
Roberts, Esq. 

“It has been a home to me thus far, and I greatly 
desire to remain under treatment from which I have 
derived so much benefit. I have had no home since I 
broke my pledge, until I came here. I had a furnished 
room in the Studio Building, but it was a lonely place 
for a sick man. I was under constant excitement. I 
could not stay in my room, so I slept at the hotels here - 
and there, and I made my way down lower, lower, lower; 
day by day. Those whom I had heretofore considered 
friends, seemed to shy me and the past. The tongue of 
slander grew loud. I saw but the black side of every 
picture, and I resorted madly to the bar, to drown the 
current of unpleasant memories. My health, too, was 
completely shattered. Physical strength gone, — self- 
respect almost gone, friends leaving me on every side. 

“Hope, yes hope, that stays longest, was almost 
gone. 

* Despair seemed to chase every hour with the race- 
steed of destruction. I felt that I was alone; you will 
understand my struggle. You have passed through it, 
you are the victor. God knows it! He has seen me,:he 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 157 


has pitied me, and I feel confident that he has not only 
heard the prayers of others in my behalf, as well as my 
own faint, feeble petition, but that he has answered them. 
Have you lost all confidence in me?” 


“Boston, April 19th, 1869. 


“Mrs. Goueu, — My good friend, your husband, first 
induced me to sign the pledge. I wish to sign it to him, 
and for him, again. His words have given me strength ; 
he says he loves me, and his conduct proves it. 

“He wanted me to pledge myself when he saw me here. 
I would not do it. JI am sober now, and have been for a 
few days, and I desire that this news should be conveyed 
to him as speedily as convenient, for f know how much 
I grieved him when he was here; you will please forward 
it as soon as you can, for I feel that he is anxious about 
me. | | 
“And now what shall I say? HowcanI thank you 
for the deep interest you manifested in me when at your 
house? O, Mrs. Gough, you will pardon me for causing 
you so much trouble. I did not know what I was doing. 
J have taken the doctor’s medicine regularly up to this 
day, and I believe it has helped me greatly. | 

“Will you please remember me to your family, 
and believe me to be your deep debtor and attached 
friend. 


*“P.S. You told me to look to God for strength. I 
have done so, nor have I looked in vain.” 


158 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


“Boston, April 19, 1869. 
* Joun B. Gouan, Esa. 

* My Dear Friend, — Your cheering words at Camp 
Distribution, in 1864, flung the first glimmer of hope 
into my heart. I signed the pledge, and began the bat- 
tle. It has been a fierce one. O, how fierce, God 
alone knows. ‘The kindness of yourself and Mrs. Gough 
at that first interview made you very dear to me; that, 
and every victory I have gained since that time, has in- 
creased my love; you were my friends then, I find you 
still unchanged. To you I come on this day, by this 
letter, clothed in my right mind (I have not drank since 
Tuesday), to renew my pledge before God, and in your 
presence, never to touch nor taste again, even as a medi- 
cine. Oh! Mr. Gough, you have been a true friend to 
me. I will need your influence now, as I never have 
before. | 

“ Beginning once more with nothing but hope, and a 
few friends that God has left me, it will be a hard 
struggle. I will pray long, and fight desperately. God 
will not forsake me. 


“ Affectionately, your stricken friend.” 


We are also permitted to give the following beautiful 
letter : — 


“ BrnegHamTon, N. Y., April 6, 1869. 
* Mrs. Kerry, 
* My Dear Sister, —Your favor of yesterday is at 
hand. It finds me in the enjoyment of perfect physical 
health. I have received a very large number of encour- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 159 


aging letters, many of them from parties from whom I 
least expected to hear; but they have not been able to 
‘minister to the mind diseased.’ The seam across my 
heart is open, and bleeding as fresh to-day as it was the © 
very day that I entered this place. Nothing that I have 
yet received has in the slightest mitigated my trouble, 
or alleviated the pang. The light by which my hope 
walked six weeks ago, shines no longer. I have become 
the harbinger of secrets that I wish I never knew. I 
distrust myself, and for the simple reason that I know of 
those whom I would trust as soon as I would trust my 
own soul, and yet I find my character assailed by them, 
_ when I am not in a position to defend myself. All that 
friends can know of me in the future, they must learn 
from other lips than mine. I know the danger of this 
resolve. It involves conjecture, and conjecture always 
magnifies. | 

“Of course I am calm, but it is only the calm that 
mantles the hour when storms have passed away. It is 
only the calm of a volcano after some frightful eruption. 

“You have stood on the beach and watched the waves 
roll up, until their curling crest broke and died away. 
While trembling from the shock, the waves rolled back 
again, gloomy and sullen. So have rolled, rolled the 
waves of my life. The appearance of the storm and 
anger has passed away, many of the clouds have melted 
off,— even some sunshine has come in, much of it ap- 
pears without; but I state the fact, when I say that I 
never before felt so much like a frightened snail, curling 
itself within itself. 

* My mail since I came here has been very large, so 


160 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


that I have had to devote my entire time to letter writ- 
ing,—and now many of my correspondents are still 
neglected. 

“I leave here during the course of the week. . . . It 
would be an old story to say that I was glad to hear from 
you,— of that you are always assured. I will endeavor 
to write to , as she requested, but I don’t know that 
Ican find time. You will please remember me in love 
to all, and believe me to be, as ever, 

“ Your brother.” 





Though many of his friends had a good deal of 
confidence in him, those who knew him best saw how 
keenly he felt the disgrace; feared it would be doubt- 
ful’ if he ever entirely regained his former position. 
Through the kindness of James H. Roberts, Esq., of 
Boston, we are able to give the following interesting let- 
ter, which shows how hard he labored to help him; and. 
gives a good idea of his condition at the time of which 
Mr. Gough spoke at Music Hall. 


“DEAR Sir,—In answer to your letter I would say, 
that Mr. Gough lectured on the subject of Temperance 
in the Boston Music Hall, April 13, 1869, when he feel- 
ingly referred to Mr. Uniac’s fall, and paid a noble 
tribute to his labors in connection with the temperance 
cause. — | | 

* At the close of the lecture, Mr. Gough was informed 
that Mr. Uniac was in the hall. A messenger was de- 
spatched, who soon returned with him. He was very 
much affected and wept: freely, although at the time 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 161 


under the influence of liquor. We took him to the 
Quincy House, where Mr. Gough plead with him a long 
time, as no other man could have done. He would not 
absolutely promise to abstain, but said he would try. It 
was arranged that I should take him to Mr. G.’s house, 
where he should spend some time in quiet, under the in- 
fluence of that noble family. At this time, Mr. Uniac 
was very sensitive, and would not allow me to accom- 
pany him home. He was so persistent, that I left him in 
a horse-car about half-past ten, p.m. He agreed to go 
directly home, but the power of appetite was so strong, 
that he again yielded, and spent most of his time that 
night in a bar-room at the souta part of the city, arriving 
at Mr. Keith’s between two and three o’clock in the 
morning. The next day he was confined to his room, 
and suffered very much from exhaustion. 

“On the morning of the fifteenth, I started with him 
for Mr. Gough’s. Iwas told by a gentlemen who had 
taken an interest in Mr. Uniac (and had had much 
experience with inebriates), that he must have some 
Wine when we arrived in Worcester, as it would be 
impossible for me to take him to Mr. G.’s without some 
stimulus. When we arrived at South Framingham, he 
wanted drink, and he was so determined to have it, that 
I was obliged to use force to prevent him from leaving 
the car. On our arrival at Worcester, he was very weak, 
and on the verge of delirium tremens. His constant cry 
was for drink, and he declared he should die without it. 
I took him into an apothecary store, and gave a light 
dose of cherry wine. I went to order a carriage, leaving 
him with my friend, Mr. Mecorney, and, upon returning, 

11 


162 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


found he had escaped. I soon discovered him, however, 
in an oyster saloon. We then started for Mr. Gough’s 
house, five miles away. He begged for more drink, and 
declared that he should die before reaching our destina- 
tion, unless it was procured for him. He was in a very 
bad condition, and remembering what was said to me 
before leaving Boston, I stopped at an apothecary store 
and ordered a rather light dose of wine, the small quan- 
tity displeasing him very much. On our arrival at Mr. 
G.’s we were received very cordially. He appeared 
much better. But Mrs. G. not being able to give him 
the constant attention which he needed, and Mr. G. away 
from home, it was decided that he should return with 
me. We stopped some hours, however, and Mr. Uniac 
appeared to be much improved. She gave him medi- 
cine, and he ate quite a hearty dinner. On our departure, 
she gave me a letter to her family physician in Wor- 
cester, in which she explained Mr. Uniae’s case, and he 
prescribed for him. 

“We called at the store of Mr. Mecorney, in the post- 
office building, and while standing in the door talking 
with Mr. M., Mr. Uniac desired to drop a letter in the 
office which I had just written for him. Not knowing 
that there was a back entrance, I thought there was no 
danger of his escaping. Still I kept my eyes on him, saw 
him drop the letter in, and noticed him attentively scan- 
ning the boxes, occasionally looking at me; but he did 
not appear to have any disposition to leave. He finally 
stepped into a recess, and was out of sight. I at once 
started for him, but he eluded me. I went to the rear 
door, but he was nowhere to be seen, and it appeared to 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 163 


me that no man could have accomplished such a feat, 
even in an attempt to save life itself. Mr. Mecorney and 
I started in pursuit, travelled the city over, visit- 
ing all the places where he knew liquor to be sold, but 
could get no tidings of him. We were about to give 
up in despair, and thought of putting his case in the 
hands of the police, when Mr. M. proposed looking in an 
apothecary’s shop, where he believed liquor to be sold. 
We found no one present, but upon entering the back 
office, found Mr. Uniac there with two or three others. 
He was very much intoxicated, and he told me that 
he drank eight times in that place. 

“It was now six o’clock, and there was no other train 
until 10.30. How to pass the time for four and a half 
hours, with a man so much intoxicated, was a question 
not so easily answered. I walked with him in the street 
for about one hour, then took him into a restaurant, and 
ordered a bowl of strong beef-tea. — 

“Having partially quieted him, we went into the the- » 
atre, there being no other place of entertainment. Se- 
curing seats on the lower floor, he remained quiet during 
the first act. He then becoming restless, I took him into 
the balcony, and tried to interest him as well as I could. 
He requested me to leave him alone, which I did, taking 
a seat only a short distance away. At the close of the 
second act, I requested him to go back to our former 
seats, but he refused to do so, stating that I must leave 
him alone. He remained in the dress-circle, while I 
went to look for our overcoats, which we had _ left 
below. 

-©T sat down in full view of Mr. Uniac, and my close 


164 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


watch annoying him, he changed his seat, taking one 
a little farther back. He would lie down on his 
seat for a moment, out of sight, and then look up and 
laugh, as though he were playing with me. This he 
repeated several times. At last, losing sight of him 
longer than usual, I started for the balcony, but he had 
again escaped from me. I left the theatre at once, and 
went into the nearest bar-room, which was under the 
Bay State House, and there I found him, just putting the 
glass to his lips. I spoke sharply, and told him that I 
had lost all confidence in him. He appeared to feel 
very badly, wept like a child, and said if I could not 
trust him, there was no use of his trying to reclaim his 
lost position. I talked plainly, telling him, if he did 
not try, I should, and that he could not have any 
more drink. He gave me one of his defiant laughs, 
and said he would have it if he lived, and that I did not 
know the cunning of an inebriate. I told him if that 
was the case, he would not live, for he should go to 
Boston, dead or alive, without liquor. For two minutes 
he looked me in the eye, as only a drunken man can, 
and that glance will never be effaced from my memory. 
At length, with his eyes still fixed on me, he said, ‘Do 
you mean that?’ I answered firmly, ‘I do.’ He said, 
in a subdued tone, ‘I am ready to go.’ We then 
started for the depot. He was very calm, and did 
not ask for more drink. I became more and more 
convinced that it is folly to try and sober a man by 
giving him the lighter drinks. If I had not heeded 
the advice given me’in the morning, the result might 
have been different. Ihave referred to this day’s trial 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. we EGD 


to show the desperation of the man, and the means 
resorted to, to obtain drink. He slept most of the 
way to Boston. Mr. and Mrs. Keith were expecting 
us, as I had notified them by telegraph that we were on 
our way home. | 

“Soon after this Mr. Uniac was taken to a private asy- 
lum, where he remained till his death. I saw him often, 
and no man appeared to try harder than he toreform. I 
entreated him to go back in the country und, remain 
quiet, believing as I did that he needed rest. As he was 
financially embarrassed, I offered to pay his expenses, 
to which he would not consent. During the summer I 
gave him all the money he needed, and in fact all he 
wanted, but it was in small amounts. His board was 
paid promptly, and usually in advance, so he was not 
embarrassed by that. Mr. Gough instructed me to give 
him one hundred dollars on his account, which I did, and 
Mr. Uniac gave Mr. G. his receipt written in his peculiar 
and feeling style. 

“Mr. Uniac was a man of more than usual power, — 
generous, impulsive, very sensitive, quick to resent a 
slight, but nevertheless a true friend. The more one as- 
sociated with him, the better they would like him. He 
did not appear to have the firmness or strength to re- 
sist his powerful appetite. He seemed to be conscious 
of this, for on several occasions he had been known 
to invite friends to accompany him, for the sole reason, 
as he would afterwards acknowledge, to protect him 
from yielding to temptation. Although a victim at 
last to his appetite, he nevertheless, by his earnest, 
eloquent appeals, accomplished much; and his words 


166 — UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


of warning to old and young will not soon be for- 
gotten.” 


This letter gives a good idea of the condition he was 
in many times between the hour when he fell in the city 
of Providence and the time of his death. There are other 
friends who could present similar instances of those desper- 
ate spells. In referring to his feelings when going through 
these ordeals, he would say, “ Don’t place any confidence 
in what I say when under the control of appetite; for a 
man will deceive or do almost anything in order to satisfy 
the demands of his inordinate desire for stimulus.” In 
what Mr. R. has so graphically related, we see this truth 
manifested in his attempts, by deception, to get out of 
his sight and hearing. When this man was sober, his 
word was not doubted by any one, —showing that this 
yielding to appetite takes the honor and manhood 
out of an individual, and leaves him poor indeed. 

He had, as stated before, so far recovered his former 
strength as to go into the field occasionally and labor; 
but usually some friend went with him, as he felt safer 
and better to have company. 

One night he was to lecture a few miles out of Boston, 
and called on a friend to accompany him. They left the 
: depot at six o’clock, and arrived where he was to speak 
at about seven o’clock. The meeting was to begin at 
seven and a half; and, after being introduced to the 
committee, he appeared very uneasy and restless, getting 
up and walking across the room, going to the door and 
returning, and in various ways exhibiting signs of 
nervousness. Just before the time to go to the hall, he 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 167 


said, “I will step outside a moment” ; saying to his friend, 
“You remain here.” But this man knew him too well, 
and followed him at a little distance, saw him hurry 
along, and occasionally stop and look to see if he was 
observed. After going the length of two or three blocks 
he was just stepping into a saloon, when his faithful 
friend put his hand on his shoulder, and said, “ Where 
are you going?” With a look that plainly told that he 
was about to drink, he said, “O, my dear sir, if you 
suffered what I have since we left Boston, perhaps you 
would do what I would have done had I got inside of yon- 
der door.” He was reminded of his engagement to speak, 
and that it was nearly time, and this seemed to turn his 
attention in a new channel, and he entered the hall. 
He was received with a good deal of enthusiasm, and 
made the following remarks, and it will be seen that 
his feelings, suggested by the above instance, showed 
themselves plainly in his speech. 


“My Frienps : —I wish I could unfold to-night my 
real condition. I wish I had the power to. lay open to 
the young who are here my crushed and wounded heart ; 
I feel it would be a better temperance lecture than any 
words of mine can make. Iam laboring under a pecu- 
liarly heavy burden of body and spirit, and I only am 
here through the earnest entreaties of my friends. I 
have often thought perhaps I had better not attempt to 
occupy a position on a temperance platform, for my life 
is not such as to make it entirely sure that I shall benefit 
the cause. But God has seemed to point this as my 
duty, and so I am glad to be here, for it is one of the 


168 . *- UNIAG:, HIS LIFE, 


grandest things a man can do, to follow out his duty. 
Some men I know are deceived as to what is their duty, 
and plod on, through a weary life, entirely out of their 
correct line of action, never rising above a low level; 
while, should they turn their talents into that work 
which their abilities are fitted to perform, they might 
rise to grand heights of excellence; but that it is the 
duty of each of us to live in our moral natures in such 
a way as to honor God and help our fellow-men, no one 
can fora moment doubt. And how little do we seem 
to understand and appreciate the responsibility that God 
has put upon us in regard to our influence upon our 
fellows. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ ought to sound 
in our ears night and day, until we see how far we shall 
be held responsible for the future of our weaker and 
yielding friends. I need not spend time here to-night 
in attempting to show that the man who puts the cup 
to his neighbor’s lips is injuring and perilling all his 
future, as well as making bitter the pathway of those 
who are near and dear to him by the tender ties of love 
and affection. JI know you will excuse me to-night if I 
refer to myself somewhat, for some of the acts to which 
I shall allude cannot be better illustrated than by my 
wasted life. 

**Suppose when those who professed to be my real 
friends saw, as they must have seen, that I was of a 


social nature, that if I continued in the way I had started 


T should sink low in the scale of humanity,— I say suppose 
they had then used their influence in the direction of a 
pure life by abstinence from foolish indulgence and an 
earnest effort to better the condition of those around 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 169 


them, my whole life would have been changed for the 
better without a doubt. I tell you, young man, though 
you may be strong, though there may seem to be no dan- 
ger from the course you are pursuing, let me tell you 
there is some one upon whom your life is having an influ- 
_ ence, who perhaps is weaker; and while you stand, you 
_ will see him going rapidly past you towards a drunkard’s 
grave, and the blood of his life is on the skirts of your 
garments. O, when will men awake from this selfish 
sleep that holds them ! —if I am only saved, is all that 
concerns many people of this age. I know men in some 
of our towns who are the leading persons, — honored 
and respected, — who are drinking moderately, and for- 
getting that by this ‘act their influence is being felt, and 
will show itself in the after lives of some of the boys of 
these towns. What makes me a slave of my appetite? 
What made me wander up and down the streets of New 
York homeless and friendless? It was that having tasted 
and loved the contents of the ‘cup,’ the habit was 
encouraged and kept alive by the influence of men who 
lived honored and respected, and some of them have died 
lamented by the community, — while only by the grace of 
God, and a continual battle to keep down my appe- 
tite, shall I be able to keep from filling a drunkard’s 
grave. 

“If we were all formed by nature alike, with the same 
desires, with the same firmness and decision of character, 
with the same weakness,— then he who went down 
would alone be to blame, and on his head would be all 
the responsibility. But while I am weak in this regard, 
while one glass of this fire will set me all aglow with a 


170 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


burning fever, and carry me on till I sink to the lowest 
place on earth, and a man by my side drinks the same, 
and stands, and looks at me with contempt, —I tell you, 
sir, by every law human and divine, he should abstain, 
and thus by his influence help me. You may not all 
agree with me in this logic, but, sir, when you have suf- 
fered what I have since the fatal day I took that to my 
lips that awoke the slumbering appetite, when you have 
seen life through only the darkest clouds, when you 
have carried in your bosom a heart as heavy as mine, 
when you have seen the hopes of a lifetime dashed to the 
ground, — when you have seen and felt all this, you will 
perhaps see this matter in the light that reveals it to my 
eyes. ‘Total abstinence for the individual and prohibi- 
tion for the State’ is the only rule of action that will 
safely carry you and me through this life. 

“If the prohibitory law was rigidly enforced in every 
town and city I enter, I could walk the streets with 
safety ; but to-night, because it is not, I came near being 
lost again, and had not a friend, who has watched me as 

-a mother does her child in the moment of peril, rescued 
me, I would not have had the pleasure of looking in 
your faces a sober man. When I received an invitation 
to be here to-night, your committee will remember I 
wrote I hardly dared to promise I would come, for I was 
not fully confirmed in my ways of soberness; but, God 
helping me, I will strive to win back the confidence of 
those who have done so much for me. Let me, in con- 
clusion, ask you to awake to new energy and life; re- 
member the men like me, who need your help and sym- 
pathy; think of the homes you can brighten. And 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. Like 


never forget that all can do something. No one is so 
humble as not to be able to unite in this work. One 
night, after a terrible battle, a little drummer boy went 
with me over the field where lay the dead and dying. 
_ Some were wounded near unto death, and we could not 
hope to do anything but try and smooth their way to 
the other world; as we found so many needing help, it 
was indeed painful to hear the cries for assistance. I 
turned to the drummer boy, and said, ‘Can’t we do 
something to relieve these men?’ And he said, ‘O, 
yes, sir; 1 am bringing water from the cool spring yon- 
der, and bathing the lips and aching heads of these dy- 
‘ing soldiers.’ And sure enough, there he was, running 
from one to the other, with this cool, health-giving bev- 
erage, trying to soothe and comfort these patriots. As 
I saw what a little thing this was in itself, and how 
much comfort and good it was doing, I felt that there is 
no place on this earth where we cannot do something 
for the good of others. 


*¢ Let us, then, be up and doing, with a heart for any fate, 
Still adhering, still pursuing, learn to labor and to wait.’ ” 


The above must have been among the first of his 
speeches after his fall; and while we cannot put into it 
the impassioned eloquence of illustration and power of 
delivery, we can form some conception of how this 
struggling man felt as he stood on that platform that 
night. 

When he reached home that evening, something sooth- 
ing was administered, and he fell into a pleasant slumber 
and in the morning awoke feeling calm, and stronger 
than for some time before. 


172 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


He continued to improve rapidly, and began to speak 
frequently in various parts of the State, to the ac- 
ceptation of the people, many remarking that he 
seemed to throw a new life and power into his words and 
thoughts, while at the same time there appeared to be a _ 
kind of a gloomy shadow resting on his life. His at- 
tempts to be cheerful were easily seen to be forced, and 
his nearest friends regarded this as one of the worst 
features of his case. Still, hope for the best led them 
to do all in their power to cheer and make glad his way, 
and many a heartfelt prayer went up to God in his 
behalf. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 173 


CHAPTER XVI. 


CIRCUMSTANCES OF HIS DEATH — SPEECH — EXTRACTS 
FROM DIARY, ETC. 


HE had now been asober man for nearly four months, 
and had greatly improved in health and appearance. It 
was arranged to have him accompany me on a lecture tour 
through the towns beyond Fitchburg, in the northwestern 
part of the State of Massachusetts. Everything being 
ready, he called at my office on the morning of Oct. 
10th, at nine o’clock. We were to leave at eleven, and 
before going had some conversation in regard to his 
condition. He said, “I have to a certain degree regained 
my former strength. Still there is an indescribable sen- 
sation comes over me at times causing me to look at every- 
thing with a gloomy feeling, and it is with considerable 
effort that I am able to shake it off. But while I have 
hours when it seems as though I must yield to my appe- 
tite again and go down forever, I am much better than I 
have been at any time since my fall in March.” We left 
Boston soon after this, and, during our long ride, he 
appeared cheerful, atid discussed the question in regard to 
- whether this power of appetite was a disease, something 
which we must doctor the patient for, or whether it was 
a habit which was under the control of the will entirely. 
He presented arguments to prove it had something to 
do with the free choice and desire of a man, but was not 


174 7 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


clear about what it came to be in the course of years of 
indulgence. While engaged in this discussion we were 
pleasantly interrupted by a gentleman who introduced 
himself as an old comrade of Uniac. For a moment Mr. 
U. did not seem to recognize him; when his identity 
flashed across his mind, he cordially shook him by 
the hand, and for nearly an hour they spoke of old times 
when they camped, marched, and fought together. I 
well remember how sad Uniac’s face grew as he said, 
* Well, my dear boy, I am indeed glad to see you, but 
what I went through in those days are not to be com- 
pared to the sufferings and sorrows of the last six months. 
You know after I signed the pledge, and began to fight 
the appetite for liquor, I told our company one night in 
a speech, that, God helping me, I would never touch or 
taste a drop of liquor while I lived ; and, George, I meant 
what I said, but I had no conception of what an awful 
contest I should have to go through.” The soldier 
cheered him by kind words, and left us at the town 
of Fitchburg. After taking a lunch we rode on, 
and reached the town of Gardner about four o’clock, and 
were met at the depot by one of. the committee, and 
escorted to a pleasant and comfortable house where we 
were to spend the night. In the evening, although it 
stormed, the Town Hall was crowded, and Mr. Uniac 
made an eloquent and powerful speech. In the course , 
of his remarks, he referred in an humble way to his fall, 
and though he spoke with some confidence as to his 
hopes for the future, several at the close of the meeting 
remarked that there appeared to be a solemn and shadowy 
cloud abcut what he said, as though cheerfulness: and 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 175 


hopefulness were feigned. After receiving the con- 
gratubations of the friends who had come out to hear 
him, we returned to our room and talked of the past; 
he reviewed his mistakes and failures, and said, “If we 
would only be guided by our past mistakes, our future 
would be free from a good many things that had impeded 
our progress in the days gone by.” When we came to 
retire, he took from, his carpet-bag some bromide of 
potassia, which he said he was taking for the purpose of 
quieting his nerves, and making him sleep.- We asked 
him if he knew the nature of the drug, and he replied 
that it was very simple; but from the quantity he con- 
fessed he was taking regularly, we told him we feared it © 
might injure him, and he concluded he would begin after 
this trip to reduce it. 

We had seen so much of him since his fall that we 
felt it to be a duty to exercise the greatest care of him, 
and when he left the room for 3 few moments, we exam- 
ined the contents of his valise, and felt sure he had noth- 
ing else that he was taking. He slept well during the 
night, and on awaking, we found it to be a very stormy 
day. He was to speak at the same hall, should the 
weather prove favorable this evening, as he lectured in 
the night before. We kept our rooms nearly all day, 
and he was not out of sight except about an hour in 
the morning, when in company with the gentleman who 
was entertaining us, he visited the factories of the 
place, in which he appeared much interested. | 

After dinner, he complained of being sleepy, and laid 
down on the bed, and slept so long and soundly, that we 
aroused him, and inquired if it was the medicine that 


176 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


made him sleep so; he made no reply, but continued to 
be very drowsy and sleepy until nearly time to attend 
the meeting, when he aroused himself, went to the hall, 
and found it full of people who were members of the 
order of Good Templars, who had come from all the 
towns in the immediate vicinity. His speech was one 
of his best, being of a descriptive character, in which 
line, it is well known, he excelled. 

Nothing unusual occurred that night, except I could 
not fail to notice the change that had come over him 
in the matter of being sleepy, for it was with consider- 
able difficulty that I awoke him in the morning; and 
‘while: he was dressing himself, I again inquired if he had 
not something else with him to make him sleep. He 
evaded the direct question, but gave me to understand he 
had only the bromide of potassia. 

We were now carried over to the town of Temple- 
ton, and arriving there took rooms at the pleasant hotel 
of the place. 

We were to speak that evening in the Town Hall, and 
he expressed a desire to remain in-doors, refusing an 
invitation to walk after dinner. He had one or two 
callers, and spent the rest of the afternoon in sleeping. 

In the evening a good audience greeted him, and he 
seemed inspired by the occasion; and as this was the last 
speech I ever heard him deliver, it is written on my 
memory in letters of an indelible character. And I will — 
give some extracts which the reader will see partake of 
the sadness of which we have spoken. 

“We have met here to-night under pleasant circum- 
stances, — pleasant and yet sad to me, for while I have 





STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 177 


been sitting here, my mind has been wandering backward. 
I do not forget the time when in this vicinity I had the 
honor and pleasure to meet many I now see, but then 
_ how different. O, what a change has come over me; 
why, I have seemed to live a lifetime in the last few 
months, and only by the mercy of God and the efforts of © 
dear friends, I am here. Our relations in this world 
change often, but there are few changes that ever come 
over any man’s life so marked as that which came near put- 
ting out forever the light of my soul. But, my friends, 
through all the darkness that shrouded my being, I never 
forgot the kind friends who were praying for me all over 
the country. I tell you, if I never appreciated friendship 
before, I value and prize it now; for by this storm that 
has beat against me, I have been able to separate my 
real friends from my professed ones. When the sun is 
shining, when nothing obstructs the way, then we see cer- 
tain people flocking around us. When there is something 
for them to expect, all is well; but let a cloud, though 
it be no bigger than a man’s hand, appear in our sky, 
and you see these people begin to give you more room. 
But if I have seen a few of this kind, thank God I have , 
seen many who, as the darkness grew more and more 
- intense, would draw closer and closer until they would 
‘shield me entirely from the pitiless storm. I will not 
name those men and women, but in the book kept by the | 
good angel, I doubt not their names are written in letters 
of light. 

* My friends, men who stand as I did, need help; they 
need encouragement, not for a day or a week, but all the 


time ; they want to feel that there are some hearts that 
12 


178 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


beat in sympathy and love for them. You cannot begin 
to appreciate this, unless you have passed through some 
such experience. 

“JT remember when after my fall I began to think of | 
‘ny condition and realize how my friends would look at 
my act. While thus musing, a hand was placed on 
my shoulder, and a cheerful voice said, ‘My dear 
fellow, what can I do to help you?’ Turning around, © 
I saw it was one of my best friends. I could hardly 
speak, for his words had touched my aching heart; and 
from that hour to this, that friend, and many others, 
have stood by me, and God knows I can never be thank- 
ful enough for what they have tried to do. 

“ My dear friends, let me entreat you, by your love for 
this cause of God and humanity, to stand by the weak 
and tempted men all around you.” 

He then discussed in an able manner the issues of the 
hour, and presented a picture of surpassing beauty when 
the evil of intemperance should pass away. 

_In conclusion he said, “I have detained you longer 
than I intended to, but I never go on to a platform to 
speak now, but the thought comes over me, perhaps — 
I never shall have the opportunity to address these. men 
and women again, and I desire to leave on your mind 
one thought. It matters but little to the world, perhaps, 
what may become of me. I have tried to do all in my 
power to help the cause of humanity ; that I have failed in 
doing my whole duty, none knows better than I; but the 
thought I wish to leave here is that, whether I stand or 
fall, live or die, I am sincere in my desire and efforts to 
do right. I have never yielded to temptation only with- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. Hoge ec 


out struggling and fighting long and well, and though 
I have not been able to stand erect all the time, God 
knows I would be willing to sacrifice anything I have, for 
the sake of this glorious cause. I mean to live and die 
fighting for it; and whatever may be in store for me or 
you, I implore you fail not to do all you can to help men 
who to-night are yearning and dying for kind words and 
tender acts. I may not ever meet you again here 
on earth, but O, let us so live, that when we are called 
upon to lie down, to give up the mortal, we may put on 
an immortality radiant with briglktness, and mid the 
flowers that grow by the river that flows fast by the 
throne of God, meet and sing forever.” 

There is nothing remarkable about the above ex- 
tracts; except, as I took them down in my book, and 
_ read them over after his death, they seemed to be so full 
of his heart-language, that we felt that to all who knew 
him they would be interesting. | 

At the close of the lecture, he was informed that it 
would be necessary for us to arise in the morning as 
early as half-past three, to take the stage, in order to get 
the first train for Boston, which we felt our duty to do. 
In the quiet of that night, we talked of all he had 
passed through, of his hopes and fears, and, taking my 
hand, he said, “You and other friends have been kind 
to me; I trust I shall be able now to stand.” The 
tears gathered in bis eyes, and giving my hand a 
firmer grasp, he continued, “God only knows how hard 
I am fighting, and what I endure.” We encouraged 
him as best we could, and he went to bed. He was, 
however, very restless and uneasy, arose several 


180 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


times, fixed the fire, and consulted his watch. From 


the time we took the cars till we reached Fitchburg, he 
slept soundly. At this place we met a friend, and 
Uniac engaged in conversation with him, till we reached 


Boston. Arriving there about nine A. M., we went ~ 


directly to a restaurant on Tremont Row, where he ate 
a hearty breakfast. 

We then saw him home to his residence, he desiring 
us to do so; for I think he had some fears he would 
not be able to reach there without some trouble, as it 
would be necessary for him to pass several places where 
he had often drank when under the influence of liquor. 
He had agreed to spend the next Sabbath at Lawrence, 
and being very much exhausted on Friday evening, the 
day he arrived home, he wrote that he did not feel able 
to come, and “egged to be excused. On Saturday, he 
remained most of the day in his room at Asylum Street. 
On Sunday, Dr. Richards spent part of the day with him, 
and his medical attendant noticed nothing very unusual 


in his appearance. He seemed in fine spirits, and need- 


lessly communicative in regard to himself, stating things 
at the dinner table which were calculated to depreciate 
him in the minds of some people. But self-justifica- 
tion was not one of his faults, and concealment was 
contrary to his nature. Monday passed as usual. 
Tuesday he called on the Rev. J. B. Dunn, told him it 
was four months since he had drank any liquor, and 
seemed happy and pleased that he had resisted so long. 
His faithful attendant told us, however, that he was 
more or less alternately depressed and excited, and that 
now she felt sure he had begun to take something of 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. | 181 


the nature of opium; and, feeling so sure of this, on 
Wednesday she took measures to counteract its influ- 
ences. 

On Thursday he was to have gone to Vermont to lec- 
ture, but in his bad condition it was not thought prudent 
to have him undertake the long journey alone. He, how- 
ever, for almost the first time, objected to having any one 
go with him. He was allowed to sleep as long as possi- 
ble that morning, and then aroused. He was late, and 
dressing himself hurriedly, started with an attendant for 
the depot, but reached there about ten minutes too late 
to take the only train that would reach the place in time 
_ for the lecture. He was very weak and nervous, and 

this disappointment excited and annoyed him exceed- 
ingly. | 
He kept taking bromide of potassia, and from the 
best authority that we are able to procure, we find he 
had taken during this day eight or nine times of this 
medicine, but had not drank any liquor up to now, and 
was fighting desperately the final and most awful strug- 
gle of his life. Who can estimate or understand it? 
Those who saw him twenty-four hours before this last 
fall, could but feel that he was going through a severe 
and doubtful contest. He had grown thin and pale, his 
nervous system was completely shattered and broken 
down ; and the opium which he doubtless took was taken 
for the purpose and in the belief that it would aid him in 
the effort to stand. His friends were faithful and untiring 
in their efforts to help and save him. Some one of them 
followed him every step, and watched over him by night 
and by day. 


182 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Thursday afternoon he demanded liquor; he coaxed, 
begged, and threatened. Finding his condition such that 
unless some was allowed him he would become unman- 
ageable, his attendant reluctantly consented to let him go 
out, on his promise that he would immediately return. 
He took his hat and went to the nearest liquor-shop, and 
unfortunately for Boston, be it said, he did not have to 
go far before he found one. It is, however, but justice 
here to say that it is more than doubtful whether he 
could have been prevented from leaving the house by 
those then with him, even had the attempt been made. 

When he got inside the saloon, he probably drank 
freely. At any rate, his condition showed that he had 
indulged to a considerable degree. He also procured 
some whiskey in a bottle, and brought it to the house, ~ 
where he arrived as soon as he had promised. 

No one knew but himself the amount of opium he had 
taken previous to this, but probably more than he intended 
_or knew the consequences of. 

It was now near evening, and he began to show signs 
of being very sleepy, and soon fell into a sort of 
stupor, but he came out of this in a short time partially, 
and asked his medical attendant to remain and watch 
with him during the night. After answering a few 
questions in an unintelligible manner, he fell into a 
heavy sleep. Almost immediately after this, the atten- 
tion of the watcher was attracted by heavy breathing, 
which she knew came but once, and that immediately 
before death. 

Medical assistance was now summoned, and everything 
done that was possible to relieve and help him. But, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 183 


alas! the fight is almost over, the man is too weak and 
far gone to resist much longer. While those around him 
were watching his every movement, he roused himself suf- 
ficiently to inquire where he was, and then immediately 
sank back. He opened his eyes once more, and after 
gazing around the room with a kind of vacant stare, with 
some diiliculty lisped a name that had been sacred to him 
in brighter and happier days, before the storm-cloud of 
sin and intemperance had overwhelmed him, and then 
gently fell into that sleep whose awakening is in Eternity. 

The struggle now is ended, the victory over the man 
complete. Allis calm; no more tears, no more strug- 
gling days and nights, no failures nor temporary victories, 
but peacefully and serenely he rests, though vanquished . 
and conquered by his life’s enemy. 

Tell me, ye who profess to judge men for a course the 
cause of which you know nothing, has this man’s life 
borne nothing but leaves? Has this life been all a failure ? 
Has it not borne buds and fruit that will open and ripen 
white and beautiful just over the river in that garden 
where flowers bloom but never fade? 

Who can stand by the side of this tenantless clay and 
say, “Had I been he, I would have resisted this power”? 
Who can say at the close of life, “I have done all I 
could”? ‘That he fought nobly, the record of his life 
shows; and God the Saviour and Father of us all knows 
the harvest of his life. Though dead, he speaks elo- 
quently to the young men of this age with a warning 
voice that ought to penetrate every heart, to avoid the 
evil that was his curse and destroyer. 

The are few instances in all history of men who have 


184 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


been before the public so short a time, who have become 
more widely known, and more generally loved and 
respected than Uniac. By his own exertion he placed 
himself almost at the head of descriptive orators in the 
space of four or five years, and his power and eloquence 
have been felt all over the country. 

Mr. Uniac had read a great deal, and could repeat for 
hours together from the standard poets, without making 
a mistake. His memory in this particular was truly 
wonderful.. A lady writing from the western part of 
Massachusetts, says that one evening after the close of a 
lecture she concluded to test him in this line, and said 
she took from her library nearly all the English standard 
poets. She would then open the books at random, read 
a line, and in nearly every instance he would take up the 
verse and carry it along with surprising accuracy. For 
nearly two hours she tested his memory in this way, 
and she remarked that it was beyond belief to find what 
a store of reading he could repeat. We have the testi- 
mony of men of culture who have associated with him 
as regards his reading, and all pronounce him one of the 
best-read men of the times, considering his opportunities. 

It has been thought by some people that Uniac, find- 
ing himself too weak to stand before the world an up- 
right, sober man, took the opium with the intent to end his 
days ; or, 1n other words, committed suicide. We confess, 
at first this did seem reasonable, but after the reflection and 
investigation we have given the circumstances, and from 
letters in our possession, we feel certain this was not the 
case. Itis true after his fall on the 17th of March, when 
he had become sober again, he did say to several of his 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 185 


friends that if he went down again he should be a dead 
man, or words to that effect; but from a letter written 
just before he died, we find he must have meant by this 
remark that he thought he would not be strong enough 
to stand another fall, for he was not like many who 
drink, taking it sometimes moderately, but when he had 
once tasted it, he ‘continued to drink fearfully day and 
night. In the letter of which mention has been made, 
he says, “I do not think if I go down again, I shall live 
through it. I do not mean by this that as muchas I 
would like to flee from the sorrows and temptations of 
this world, I would do such a mean and cowardly 
act as to commit suicide; for that is indeed unmanly, 
and unworthy of any sane person ; but I fear my strength 
will give out, and my system be unable to stand the strain 
that comes when I give way to my appetite.” In another 
letter he refers to the same matter as follows: “Amid 
all my sorrows I never was so mean as to contemplate 
getting rid of them by taking my own life.” We may 
therefore safely conclude that he died fighting. He felt 
that the opium would aid and give him quiet and sleep, 
and being in a terrible condition from his efforts, he took 
more than he intended, which, together with a large 
quantity of bromide of potassia and the whiskey, caused ’ 
his death. He was not strong, for we know that when 
he was placed in the asylum where he died, he was very 
much reduced in strength, and never seemed to fully 
recover from the attack of sickness he then had. It will 
be difficult for us to find a man anywhere who was all 
his life (after he found himself a slave to alcohol) appar- 
ently trying to reform, and so often under such agony of 


186 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


spirit and body. ‘Those who have seen him as he con- 
tended, and heard him cry out in the anguish of his 
burdened heart, “O my God, must I live and die a 
drunkard?” know he was in earnest, and know he went — 
down fighting. And though he made a desperate stand, 
we can only say that his enemy was stronger than he, and 
won in the battle. 

The following extracts from his diary, written dur- 
ing the same month of his death, will show how his 
heart felt, for we have been impressed with the tender 
personal matter we have found written a which 
none but God and he ever saw. 

T am heartsick to-day. I wandered down the street 
this afternoon, and as I passed some of the places where 
I have had liquor, I felt some unseen power urging me 
to goin. Will I ever free myself from this feeling? 
Shall I ever stand secure again? I tremble when I 
think of my ever again yielding.” 

“Tam better this morning, and am to try and speak 
this evening. Some of my friends feel it will give me 
strength to see an audience, and feel something of their 
inspiration.” 

The following was written after the lecture. “I had 
a good house last night, and feel much encouraged. I 
went this P.M. over that portion of Boston that is cursed 
by a large number of rum-shops, and as I looked at the 
little boys and girls who in their faces and forms showed 
that the evils of intemperance had been inherited by them, 
and then saw men standing behind bars, pouring out this 
vile stuff that had made all this misery, I felt that the 
‘golden age’ we often speak of is yet a long way off, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 187 


and I offered up a heartfelt prayer, as I gazed on the 
doings of rum, that I might escape the terrors of a 
drunkard’s life and awful death.” — 

“T have only time to write a line in my book, to re- 
cord the‘ old, old story,’ my ‘appetite has been very 
strong all day.’ 

“Tam to go on a leeture tour. I must have rest and 
sleep, or I shall not be fit to stand before an audience.” 

“One more day of my life has been recorded by the 
angel of time, and I am still a sober man; by God’s help 
J am enabled to say this. It seems as though it grew 
harder for me to keep my feet in the right path, for 
every day I have to fight.” 

The following are the last lines we find penned, and 
were probably written when he had made up his mind he 
must yield or had yielded. He only begins a sentence, 
and abruptly closes without finishing it. 

“Darkness has come over me, my light has gone out, 
I can only —” 

These extracts seem to confirm what has been said 
about the motive which led him to take the opium. In 
his case he seemed to have spells or periods, when he 
would have unusually hard times to stand firm against 
the demands of his appetite, and when he wrote the 
above he was going through one of these periods. When 
he wanted sleep, while off on the lecture tour, he must 
have taken it, and when he returned to Boston increased 
it; it had the effect to intensify his desire for liquor, 
and while under the influence of this drug he took the 
liquor, and after the excitement of the opium had sub- 
sided, the other effect came over him, and caused a sleep 


188 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


which knew no waking. A spirit of unrest is seen in the 
few extracts above, and perhaps had his physician been 
aware of his true state he might have been helped; but 
he would often put a good face on his condition, and thus 
deceive those in attendance. 

But he has gone to that place “ where the weary are at 
rest, and the wicked cease from troubling.” No more will 
temptation fret and harm his peace, for he has passed over 
the river and is beyond the reach of injury from those who 
have caused him, and those who loved him, so much sor- 
row and misery; but we cannot forget that there are 
hundreds and thousands of others who walk our streets 
trembling with fear for themselves, and those about 
them. 3 

Reader, as you look into the faces of your little boys, 
and kiss them good-night, remember Uniac once played 
beneath the green trees of his home, and at his mother’s 
side repeated his morning and evening prayer, and went 
out from her sight pure and innocent. And because of 
the temptations that were set for his young feet, he had 
a life of struggles and an untimely death. Would you 
make the future of your boys safe, instil in their young 
hearts a love for the temperance cause, early at the altar 
of total abstinence swear them, and, by example and pre- 
cept, help them make their future. But, doing all this, 
there will be some of them who will lose the influence of 
your home education, and come under the power of other 
associations. And if you would make them safe, you 
must, by your actions as citizens of this free country, close 
up the dram-shops, and all that follows in their train, 
and by the strong arm of the law enforce obedience to 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 189 


the principles of virtue and temperance, for true liberty 
consists in doing that which shall in no way interfere 
with the rights and privileges of others. And no man 
or set of men has a right to place before the young men 
of our country that which has ruined thousands, and will 
continue to ruin as long as it is allowed to be sold. 

In the name, then, of Uniac, let us gather new inspira- 
tion to fight on beneath the temperance banner till vic- 
tory shall crown our efforts. 


190 . UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


CHAPTER XVII. 
FUNERAL EXERCISE — SPEECH, ETC. 


On the 28th day of October, the friends of this gifted 
man assembled in the Beach Street Church, the Rev. J. 
R. Dunn, pastor, to pay their last respects to all that 
remained of a man dear to many of their hearts. The 
day was wet and gloomy, and nature herself seemed to 
be in mourning for the occasion. 

Many men of distinction from the various walks of 
life were present, to show that though he had often dis- 
appointed their just expectations, still the good he tried 
to do, and the effort he made to be true to himself, en- 
titled him to respect and honor. 

The casket that contained the remains was covered 
with the choicest flowers, that had been tastefully and 
beautifully arranged by the loving hands of friends who 
knew and appreciated all the tender and lovable traits 
of character which this poor unfortunate man so often 
displayed to those near and dear to him. 

Seated near the body were some ten or fifteen children 
from the Orphans’ Home, where Uniac had often spoken 
words of kindness to the motherless and fatherless chil- 
dren whose little hearts so often ached to hear. The 
services were held at the noon hour, and just as the tones 
of the tolling bell had died away, the orphan children 


' STRUGGLE, AND FALL. — LOT 


came forward, and taking each other by the hand, sang 
in a sweet and feeling manner an appropriate hymn; at 
its conclusion the Rev. Mr. Edmonds read some selec- 
tions of Scriptures, and prayer was offered by the Rev. 
Dr. Chickering. After which, the Rev. J. D. Fulton, 
D.D., of Boston, was introduced and made an eloquent 
speech, spoke of the failings of this poor brother, and 
held up his death as a warning to all who were tampering 
with the contents of the wine-cup. The Rev. D. C. 
Eddy, p.p., then addressed the people. 

He came down from the pulpit, and, standing by the 
side of the coffin, spoke touchingly and tenderly of the 
“poor, gifted, weak, and tempted brother,” as he called 
Uniac, and said, “I do not know which to speak of, this 
man’s faults, or his virtues; his failures, or his suc- 
cesses.” He alluded to the bitter struggle of a lifetime ; 
told of the hours this man had stood with the enemy 
under his feet, and showed how active is the enemy of 
virtue,— for in an evil hour when the brother was physi- 
cally reduced in strength, at just the right time he comes 
in on him like a flood, and overcomes his strength.” 

_ He then eloquently enforced the lesson of the hour on 
the young men who were present. “Uniac,” he said, 
“speaks to you to-day from out his coffin, in a manner 
that cannot but impress you; far more eloquently and 
powerfully does he thus speak as he lies there with his 
lips closed in death, conquered by intemperance, than he 
ever spoke when in his grandest and best days.” After 
relating a few instances of a personal nature, in connec- 
tion with what he had seen of the man while he was try- 
ing to save himself, he concluded by saying, “ Let this 


192 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


lesson be heard and heeded all over our land, and Uniac 
will not have lived and died in vain.” 

The Hon. Henry Wilson being present, now came for- 
ward and spoke a few moments. He began by alluding 
to several occasions when he had met this “ poor, strug- 
gling young man” trying to stand, told of some of his con- 
versations with him, and how on one occasion the tears 
ran down Uniac’s cheeks as he tried to show him it was 
possible for him to regain his lost position. He then 
spoke of the power intemperance was exerting all over the 
country, and related in the most eloquent manner some 
instances of the work Uniac had accomplished. He told 
of an instance when he heard him speak, and said he 
regarded him as a young man of great promise. Mr. 
W.’s remarks were tender and feeling in their nature, 
and when he had concluded, there was hardly a dry eye 
in the house. 

After the singing of a hymn by the audience, the 
Rev. J. B. Dunn made the closing address. Mr. D. had 
been peculiarly near the deceased since he began in the 
temperance work, and therefore his remarks were of 
such anature as to make them very interesting to all who 
were present. 

He began by referring to the good and tender heart 
this man had, and how he made himself one of your 
dearest friends, if you knew himlong. He spoke of the 
last visit he had from him, and how cheerful he seemed, 
and also told of the many times he had seen him when 
' his appetite was fighting for the victory. No report of 
this speech or in fact of any of those given on this occasion, 
can do anything like justice to them, for the entire ser- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 193 


vices were of a solemn and impressive character. At the 
close of the: exercises an invitation was given for all to 
take a last look at the face of the dear departed ; and that 
large concourse of people slowly walked by the coffin, and 
many an honest, heartfelt tear was shed above this man’s 
remains on that sad day. When the friends had all 
passed, we followed all that was mortal of Uniac, and 
laid him in the soldiers’ lot at Mt. Hope Cemetery, where 
he sleeps to-day, peacefully, side by side with those who 
had gone forth to battle for our country. And every 
year, to the sound of solemn music, the comrades of these 
brave dead march, and with uncovered heads strew their 
graves with sweetest flowers. Should the reader ever 
visit this sacred spot, perhaps he may feel like shedding 
a tear above the grave of a man who saved by his work 
and power many a poor victim of intemperance, but, 
alas! could not save himself; for what this man tried 
to be, —for what he was enabled to be to the cause of 
temperance for five years, — let us never forget, or cease 
to love, his memory. And while we may find much to 
condemn in almost any man’s life, when we remember 
the circumstances that surrounded Uniac, we will not 
hastily judge him. 


13 


194 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


LETTERS FROM REV. WM. M. THAYER, REV. E. P. MAR- 
VIN, D. D., REV. W. H. H. MURRAY, WENDELL PHILLIPS, 
HON. HENRY WILSON, REV. GILBERT HAVEN, D. D., REV. 
D. C. EDDY, AND J. H. ORNE, ESQ., ETO. 


We have the honor and pleasure of presenting in this 
chapter letters from some of the ablest men connected 
with the temperance movement, and they show how 
highly the subject of this book was held in the estimation 
of men of this character. 

The first one is from the pen of the Rev. Wm. M. 
Thayer, of Franklin, Mass., Secretary of the Massachu- 
setts Temperance Alliance, who was perhaps as well and- 
intimately acquainted with Uniac as any other person, 
and was held in high esteem by him.. 


* Dear Srr,— I am glad to hear that you are preparing 
a memoir of the late Edward H. Uniac, Esq., so well 
known to the tempérance public. No one was more inti- 
mate with him than yourself. You knew him in private 
as well as in public, and hence can but appreciate those 
personal qualities which endeared him to so large a circle 
of devoted friends. He was one of those rare young 
men, who must be seen in the private walks of life in 
order to be known. In his nature, delicate as ‘a harp 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 195 


of a thousand strings,’ so sensitive that even a mild crit- 
icism would bow his soul as a windy storm bends the 
forest, it was not strange that he often felt this to be a 
hard world to live in. You know, as well as I, how 
many sad, sad hours he passed, because of the fearful 
appetite with which he had to battle. And when, after 
- four years of valiant struggling against the demon-power 
within, during which he thrilled the hearts of admiring 
rnultitudes by his eloquence and burning thoughts, he 
yielded in an evil hour, and fell, you know the agony 
of his spirit. You can never write it in.a book, — poor 
human language is inadequate to express it. 

* Never shall I forget that first interview with him after 
his fall. I had loved him almost as a younger brother, 
and the tidings of his relapse had filled me with honest 
grief. We met, —he the poor, fallen, trembling victim 
of rum, and I his friend and brother. You may well 
imagine the rest. There were no words. With locked 
hands, emotion was more expressive than words. His 
whole frame shook with feeling, and told what a hell of 
bitterness had opened within him. 

“It seemed as if his whole fleshy tabernacle were fall- 
ing to pieces, from the power of emotion within. [I have 
often said that I never saw a man so convulsed with 
anguish as he was. 

“Twas often with him during the three months that 
he was under a cloud, sometimes standing up nobly in 
the contest with a raging appetite, and sometimes return- 
ing to his cups again. | . 

“JT was with him when he was in his right mind, and 
when he was not. és 


196 UNIAC: IIS LIFE, 


“Again and again I went with him to the throne 
of grace, where he felt that his only hope was. He 
talked and prayed like a Christian. And when once L 
went to him in my plain, blunt way, and told him that I 
wanted more proof that he had a Christian hope, that 
the scenes of the last few weeks had shaken my conf- 
dence in his cherished hope, he only wept, and assured 
me that my confidence was not shaken more than was his 
own; and wished to bow with me again at the throne of 
mercy, adding that if ‘God’s help is not vouchsafed, 
my case is indeed hopeless.’ The last prayer that I 
heard him offer was at my family altar. ; 

“It was humble and penitent, expressed in a simple, 
childlike manner, with a tone unusually subdued. After- 
wards he asked me if I did not notice how difficult it 
was for him to give utterance to his desires in prayer. 
On replying that I did not, he seemed surprised, and 
added in substance, ‘I feel so unworthy that I am 
almost dumb when I try to pray, and often I feel that I 
have no right to express a Christian hope.’ 

“*But you do not relinquish your hope,’ we said. He 
signified that he did not on the whole, though he hoped 
with many fears. My whole intercourse with him con- 
firmed me in the opinion that he was a Christian. We 
know not how much allowance to make for such a case as 
his. ‘No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God,’ 
but he did not die adrunkard. You and I know that he 
was sober for four months before his death, and bid fair 
to rally and be useful again,— that he did not die in con- 
sequence of returning to his cups, but died ina despe- 
rate effort to prevent areturn to his cups, by an overdose 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 197 


of laudanum. The world can never know the fearful 
conflicts that he waged with appetite. There may be 
more virtue in those contests, in the sight of God, than 
there is in the total abstinence of men like you and I, who 
never knew the appetite for strong drink. 

*“Uniac was a brilliant man. In some respects he was’ 
the most remarkable man I ever knew. His wonderful 
command of beautiful language made him a fine conver- | 
sationist ; while his knowledge of classic writers, partic- 
ularly the standard poets, contributed very much to make 
him the centre of attraction in the social circle. His 
memory was remarkable, and he would repeat more 
extracts from standard authors than any man [ ever 
knew. ‘The wife of a clergyman who is very familiar 
with the English poets, told me that she once tested him, 
by reading extracts from the different Engiish poets, when 
he would immediately tell which author she was reading. 

“His affection was like that of a little child, gushing 
and overflowing. It was called weakness by some. Per- 
haps some misconstrued it, because of its familiar, 
intense character. I admired it in him, because it was 
in keeping with his other qualities. If half of the men 
had some more of woman’s loving nature in them, the 
world would be much better than it is. 

“Uniac was not perfect: whois? He had his faults: 
who has not? Much of his life was wasted in sin; could 
not God forgive him? He died ‘under a cloud,’ but 
some clouds have silver linings. 

*T loved him while I knew him, and now that he is 
dead, I cherish his memory. 

“Yours truly, 
“Wn. M. THAYER.” 


198 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


The following is from the Rev. E. P. Marvin, p. p., 
of Wellesley, and is touchingly beautiful :— 


* WELLESLEY, — 1871. 


* DEAR Sir, — You ask me for some recollections of 
our dear friend Edward H. Uniac. 

“Twas not very long acquainted with him, and saw 
him only in his grandeur. He is a mystery in my thoughts. 
I recall him as great brightness and sudden darkness. 
He came in sight like a gallant ship, which, sailing up the 
horizon as if borne on wings, and is suddenly arrested by 
an unseen and inexplicable tempest with which it bat-_ 
- tles and struggles for a time, and then goes down in 
horror and gloom. 

* JT never knew which to admire most, Uniac’s voice, 
his graceful manner, or his ready thought and language. 
Doubtless it was the finely balanced combination of all 
these, and the powerful interaction of each of them upon 
the others that made him almost incomparable. He told 
me that it was the louder tones of his voice alone that 
roused him before an audience, and set his mind and 
imagination in full play. Hesaid he could do nothing in 
a small hall, or to a small audience, comparing it to 
speaking out of a bung-hole; but when he heard his voice 
pitching and rolling like the waves in a storm, then all 
his powers awoke, and he could say what he had never 
studied out or dreamed of saying. 

* At such times the lofty and grand strides of his mind 
seemed to me like the march of an angel from mountain 
top to mountain top. 

“The same voice, moderated to the family and modu- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 199 


lated to the repeating the choicest portions of English 
poetry, we have known to charm, and hold spell-bound 
whole social circles, from the youngest to the oldest, for 
hours together, with the power of the xolian harp. 

“His kindly feeling, his sense of honor, and his gene- 
rosity knew no bounds. He would gather all the friends 
he could, and draw them to the refreshment table to 
regale them with viands and conversation; and when he 
entered with them, with lifted hat and graceful bow on 
all sides, he was the centre of attraction, and the cynosure 
of alleyes. These same qualities, when he was in temp- 
_ tation, rendered the battle with his great enemy more 

fearful; and the knowledge of these enlarges our charity 
in judging him. 

“The account which I at first received of his former 
dreadful life, his; reformation and conversion in the 
army, given me by a ministerial friend and chaplain, was 
most affecting, and established me in the permanent con- 
fidence of his real Christian character, notwithstanding 
the darkness of his departure. No Samson dies in vain. 

“Who can tell but that, in the wise and deep order- 
ings of divine Providence, even the strange, sad close of 
a career, with such brilliant opening and promises, may 
be of more value to the cause of temperance and human- 
ity, than even his life could have been? Never was there 
a more telling example of the unconquerable and 
deadly power of the drinking appetite, nor of the inex- 
orable necessity of legal interference, to save the fallen 
and to close up the alluring ways to the seductive appe- 
tite, which surely brings in its train poverty, shame, wide 
suffering, and dreadful death.” 


200 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


Now follows one from Rev. W. H. H. Murray, of 
Boston, which will also be read with interest. 


* Boston, Feb. 9, 1871. 


* Dear Str, — Uniac was a most unfortunate man. 
He was not properly organized for defence against that 
power which was ever assaulting him, and which at last 
overcame him. His life gave daily evidence of many 
noble qualities. He made friends as easily as a flower. 
In thought and act he was fragrant with courtesy and 
kindliness. He broke impetuously, as it were, through 
the barriers of your reserve, and took your heart by 
storm. But the very warmth of his nature exposed him 
to peril. With a cooler temperament, with a more cau- 
tious and self-controlled nature, he would have been 
better equipped for the battle he was called upon to 
fight. As a warning to all gifted and ambitious men, 
his memory is more eloquent even than were his words. 
If you shall be able to present him in your work ‘true 
to the life,’ you will at once pay a just tribute to the 
nobility of his character, and prolong the influence which 
it was the aim of his ambition to strengthen. 


*“W. H. H. Murray.” 


The following is from Wendell Phillips, Esq. : — 


* Dear Sir, —I knew Mr. Uniac, and am glad you are 
writing his memoirs. Such a life has a deep interest, 
and especially just now, —one of those struggles that 
demand more firmness and courage than to face the can- 
non. ‘The warning is all the more terrible when we see 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 201 


that so omnipotent is the tyranny of this habit of intox- 
ication that even his firmness and courage, remarkable 
as they were, failed at last. He was widely known, and 
his life story will have a wide and valuable influence.” 


The Hon. Henry Wilson, United States Senator, has | 
written the following : — 


“Tam gratified to learn that a life of our dear but 
unfortunate friend Uniac has been prepared. 

“You knew him well, knew how he was tempted and 
tried, and the sad story of his fall and death. 

“You will, I am sure, trace the life of this gifted 
brother with fidelity to truth. 

“Tt will be a story of tender interest to his personal 
friends,-and to the thousands who have so often tearfully 
listened to his eloquent appeals for total abstinence, and 
warnings against the tempter, under whose insidious in- 


fluence he fell and perished. 


“Very respectfully, 
“Henry WILSON.” 


Rey. Gilbert Haven, p. D., editor “Zion’s Herald,” has 
given us the following : — 


“YT hear with pleasure that Mr. is preparing a life 
of Mr. E. H. Uniac. Mr. Uniac was a brilliant man, 
whose subjugation to the fearful appetite for strong drink 
caused asad termination of his career. His life is full 
of lessons suited to the hour, and we believe its publica- 
tion will be of great benefit to all who are under the 





202 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


dominion of strong drink, as well as to the young and 
rising generation. 


*G. HAVEN.” 


The Rev. D. C. Eddy, p.p. “Iam glad you intend 
writing the story of poor Uniac. Gifted but unfortunate, 
his life is a lesson to our young men. God grant they 
may heed it.” 


J. H. Orne, Esq., Past Right Worthy Grand Tem- 
plar of North America, of the order of Good Templars, 
_has given his estimate of Uniac, as follows : — 


* MARBLEHEAD, Mass., Oct. 6; 1870. 


* Dear Sir, —I am glad to hear that you have engaged 
to write the ‘life’ of the lamented Uniac. The striking 
incidents of his early life, his career as a soldier in the 
Union armies, his noble struggles for emancipation from 
the bondage of intemperance, his rapid rise from obscurity 
to distinction as an orator and public speaker, his devoted 
services for the benefit of his fellow-man, and the sad 
closing of his brilliant career, have excited the interest 
of hundreds who were proud to acknowledge him as a 
friend. You knew him better than any of us, for he was 
your companion, as well as friend, in labors for the 
advancement of the cause, which he gratefully acknowl- 
edged had led him to a higher and better life; and if you 


record the strange incidents of his eventful life with 


entire fidelity, you cannot fail to produce a work that 
shall be an eloquent lesson of encouragement to others. 
“Yours truly, 
“J. H. Orne.” 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 203 


CHAPTER XIX. 


REVIEW — LESSONS OF HIS LIFE— STRENGTH OF APPE- 
TITE — ESTIMATES OF LIQUOR TRAFFIC — PROGRESS OF 
REFORM, ETC. 


We have been tracing a life full of warning and in- 
struction. We have tried to so présent it as to do 
entire justice to the dead, and at the same time benefit 
the living. 

Who can read this history of a single life, and see the 
grand opportunities lost, the hopes of friends disap- 
pointed, and everything bright turned into darkness, 
without feeling impressed with the startling truth that 
this is a representative case of many others scattered all 
over the land, who are to-day going through the same 
struggles and trials that he went through, and will go 
down as he went down? And what thinking man can 
look at these facts, connected with this orie life alone, and 
not be impressed with the truth that this question of 
temperance is the most profound and important one now 
before the American people? If, in the gathering to- 
gether of incidents and facts in this work, we have seemed 
to repeat and linger over this or that idea, in connection 
with this struggling life, we have done it to endeavor, 
if possible, to impress more and more on the minds and 
hearts of our American youth, the terrible situation 


“ 


204 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


this man who was more than usually brilliant, occupied, 
because of his own free and voluntary act in the early 
years of his life, —he putting to his lips that which 
fatally injured and enslaved him. 

There are several lessons to be learned from this his- 
tory; and the first one we see that affected this man’s 
whole after career, was the want of proper associates and 
influences in the moulding period of his life. In his youth- 
ful days, had he remained under the roof of his native 
home till he had become fixed in his habits, perhaps his 
whole life would have been changed for the better; at 
any rate, mothers and fathers, you cannot be too careful 
for the welfare of your boys in this direction. One day 
we visited, in company with Uniac, the Massachusetts 
State Prison, and in one of the shops, the officer said, 
*Do you see that man sitting yonder?” We looked and 
saw a man in the prime of life, with a sad-looking coun- 
tenance, and the officer said that man belonged to one of 
our best families, and left his home when fourteen years 
of age ; and, coming to Boston, he fell into bad company, 
and, going from step to step, he at last committed a crime 
which will keep him here for fifteen years; and the offi- 
cer said he had heard him say, time after time, as tears 
ran down his cheeks, “all, all came from my yielding to 
the requirements of bad associates whom I would have 
scorned to admit into my society when at home.” There 
is nothing remarkable about this incident ; it is a common 
one, alas, too common! but it shows the great importance 
of the point of which we have spoken. 


The next truth that forces itself home to our judg- 


ment and candor is, that itis the imperative duty of every 


‘STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 205 


.-man who to-day has the power to stop the use of intoxi- 
‘cating liquors, who sees the habit growing on him, to do 
it at once. We do not attempt to say there may not be 
cases when a man has taken the first glass, and thereby 
aroused a sleeping or innate desire which perhaps was 
inherited by him from some dissipated ancestor, — for 
there are those who have given this subject much thought 
and investigation, who contend that this appetite or love 
for drink is transmitted from one generation to the 
other; and in this sense are the “sins of the fathers 
visited upon the children, even to the third and fourth 
generation.” 

If, then, there are so many chances that your children, 
if they come in contact with alcoholic drinks, may be 
injured and lost, can we do less than remove from their 
sight and reach everything of this nature? Had Uniac 
lived where the public sentiment would not tolerate the 
' traffic in liquor, of course it is safe to assert again what 
we have intimated in other parts of this book, that he 
would have lived a sober man, and died an upright and 
honored citizen. Some contend that we show the re- 
formed men too much sympathy. They would sound in 
his ears, night and day, “No drunkard shall enter the 
kingdom of Heaven.” They would enforce the truth on 
his mind that it is a sin to give way to his appetite. We 
do not doubt but that there may be cases of mis- 
placed sympathy, and where men are not deserving of it ; 
but it is impossible for us to feel that all men who yield 
to appetite should come under this condemnation. When 
we are looking at the actions of a man’s life, we usually 
try and see what his motives were for this or that action. 


206 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


And who can find a single good reason or motive for the 
fall of Uniac, in any other way except that his appetite 
overcame his will, almost if not entirely against his 
desire. ) ! 

Judge Crosby, of Lowell, has sometime during the last 
twelve months made a speech before a committee of the ~ 
Massachusetts Legislature, in which he contends there 
is throughout the land a false sympathy which is injuring 
the virtues and morals of the people, —that we do not give 
men, who sin to understand and feel that they have sinned 
and done wrong, and that they must be punished for 
violating the laws of God and man. We have not here 
attempted to present anything more than an idea of the 
drift of his argument. We have also noticed that one 
or two papers, in alluding to this matter, have taken 
the same view of the subject. But if there were only 
this case of Uniac to sustain the view we have taken, we 
should feel justified in standing by the truth of what we 
have presented, in regard to the power of appetite over 
him, and those like him; but there are hundreds and 
thousands of cases all over the country to confirm this 
position. The Rev. W. H. H. Murray, in a lecture 
delivered at Music Hall recently, said that he had seen 
men so much under the control and power of appetite 
that even the smell of brandy in pies or puddings 
might awake their slumbering appetite, and send them 
back to their old habits. 

It might be interesting to continue this discussion 
further; for it seems certain that when the people awake 
to the terrible reality that there is the remotest danger 
of any one that they love ever coming under the domin- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 207 


ion of this power, they will arise in their might and put 
it out of their way, and crush it beneath their feet. 
Uniac has done his work. His mission under God 
doubtless will serve to show the truth of this danger, 
and the young men of this age and country be made to 
feel how awful is the evil of intemperance; and we trust 
if, will have the effect to lead them to resolve, as for them 
and theirs, they will not touch or taste anything of this 
character while life lasts. We are living in a grand and 
glorious age, —in a time when great opportunities. are 
opening up on every band,—and we cannot afford to 
wait for the chiselled marble to record the fact that we 
lived and died, with date of the same. Grander far 
is the sublime ambition to write your own epitaph on the 
beating heart of humanity by uniform uprightness of 
character, abstinence from foolish indulgence, and an 
earnest desire to benefit mankind. Let the young man 
who sighs for something to do which shall make his 
name known and honored through life, look about him ; 
for the cry on every breeze is for men, — men with souls 
and bodies baptized with a love for God and poor weak 
humanity, — men and true women who will go forth into 
the harvest field of the world’s great garden and labor. 
How many men like Uniac need your kind words and 
gentle acts. Yes, the young and rising need to be taught, 
as you teach their infant lips to pray, that this demon 
is lurking in their pathway, and they must shun and 
avoid it. Men will tell you perhaps that this tem- 
perance reform is only the wild dream of some crazy 
fanatic, that it will perish and fade away in a little while. 
Do not be deceived ; for in the beautiful words of another 


208 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


we say, “The reform will go on. From whatever stand- 
point you may look at it, it will be seen to be in exact 
harmony with the age. It must goon. God has written 
it. Its champions are not fanatics. They are terribly 
in earnest. Back of them are memories that will not 
let them pause in the great work they have taken hold 
of.” 

I remember one evening, as Uniac was closing a speech 
during an exciting campaign, some one in his audience 
cried out, “O, that is all stuff.” Uniac caught the words 
and straightening himself up to his full height, said, 
“Young man, do you tell me that, when I have seen the 
misery of family after family, — when I have looked on 
genius in rags, innocence clothed in filth,—when I 
have seen the noblest and best of earth carried down by 
the dark waters of intemperance, that this is only stuff? 
God forbid that you should ever see what I have gazed 
upon, or feel the iron enter, hot and burning into your 
very soul; but, my young friend, if you ever are thus 
abused, you will not call this reform ‘ stuff.’” Thus we 
find occasionally people who have not spent one hour in 
the whole course of their lives to honestly investigate this 
question, who seem to think we are radical and unrea- 
sonable when we demand the attention and decisive action 
of men. There is a class who believe that in the economy 
of God certain men are doomed to be drunkards, and we 
must regulate the traffic, and throw around it the appear- 
ance of respectability, and when a man like Uniac lets his 
appetite run away with his judgment, as they say, why 
provide some home or place for him,— while to a man 
who has spent any time in the investigation of this mat- 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 209 


ter, the cold indifference of some such good and true 
men is, in other respects, more than they can understand 
or give a reason for. 

When the men who look on the temperance reform 
as of no consequence, —when they shall begin to feel 
it in some way, — begin to understand something of the 
immense power there is in the rum-shops of America, then 
perhaps they will see'the need of the temperance work 
and education we are laboring for to-day. 

Uniac’s life and death is perhaps one of the best illus- 
trations of the power of. appetite that we have had for 
years brought out to the full view of the people, and at 
the same time plainly shows us how the rum power is 
ruining the noblest and the best. 

If by this life of a man many loved to honor, we can 
gather information, surely by his death, he who went 
down fighting, we ought to get something which shall 
awaken every heart, soul, and mind to the duty of the 
hour. 

And though there are times when the work will seem 
hard, when we will feel like giving up in despair, and 
sitting down by the road-side, we shall soon see a rift in 
the darkest clouds, for God’s hand is under and above 
all. 

It may not be without some benefit, if in the closing 
of a story where the power of the appetite for liquor 
carried a man down to his death, to glance at the extent 
and strength of the liquor traffic in the United States. 

By referring to a report of an officer connected with 
the revenue department of our government, we find the 
following startling figures. The sale of liquor in this 


14 


210 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


country for the year ending June 30th, 1871, was as fol- 
lows : — 


Of whiskey there was sold sixty million gallons, and ~ 
at six dollars a gallon, it would amount to three hundred 
and sixty millions of dollars. Imported spirits were two 
million five hundred thousand gallons, which, sold at ten 
dollars per gallon, would make the amount of twenty- 
five million dollars. Imported wine, ten million seven 
hundred thousand gallons, which if sold at five dollars 
per gallon would bring fifty-three million five hundred 
thousand dollars, and ale, beer, and porter we find to: 
have been about one hundred and thirty million dollars 
worth. Native wines are estimated at thirty-one million 
five hundred thousand dollars worth, making a grand 
total of over six hundred millions of dollars.. What an 
amount of money, most of it worse than wasted. 

There are supposed to be about one hundred and 
sixty thousand liquor dealers in this country. How much 
good they might accomplish if their labors were turned 
into some useful channel. 


The following will give us still further figures : — 


From the report of Commissioner Delano, we find that 
the whole number of distilleries registered last year was 
770, with a spirit-producing capacity of 910,551, gallons 
every twenty-four hours, making for ten months— the 
period usually run — 203,912,800 gallons. The revenue 
collections from spirits alone amounted to $55,581,599.18 ; 
fermented liquors, $6,319,126.90; receipts from tobacco, 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. PAE 


$31,350,707.88; total revenue, $185,235,817.97; thus 
making from whiskey and tobacco nearly one-half of the 
entire revenue. The whole amount of spirits in market 
Nov. 15, 1870, was 45,637,993 gallons, of which 36,619- 
968 gallons were out of bond, and 9,018,924 gallons in 
Government warehouses. 


The following are the approximate receipts for the year 
ending June 30, 1871. 


APPROXIMATE RECEIPTS FOR THE FISCAL YEAR 1871. 


Spirits. 
Brandy distilled from apples, grapes, and peaches..-- $1,416,008 21 
Spirits distilled from materials other than apples, 


ZLAPES; ANA Peaches... cess ceescerecessecccees eee 29,748,974 32 
Distilleries, per diem tax OM ...c.ccescccccceccccvccs 1,901,202 54 
Boe rilers? special tax)... 2. cesses cases sccceeccuceues 5,681,346 75 
Rectifiers....... Betis vas sees EA hae ae Re Ke 959,703 08 


SPIER POCAT) LIQUOT, « [se cece caccesccecsntnseoevesen 8.651,576 51 
noes Wholesale liquor ..cecccececcee cess cccscece 2,149,916 03 
Manufacturers of stills, and stills and worms manufac- 


UTC. oss ecoeoeeveeceeea severe eeeveeoeoen Ooeeee8 0eee 5,823 16 
Stamps, distillery warehouse, for rectified spirits, etc. 759,369 O1 
Excess Of gaugers’ fe€S .ececccecccecccccesccccc cece 13,544 21 


Total spirits e@eovoeeveere ee eeeOGeeser2re 8289828820808 88 $46,282,463 82 


Fermented Liquors. 


Fermented liquors, tax of $1 per barrel on .....--++- $7,159,333 85 
Brewers’ special tax....+- cece. oo cc cece cece cece cece 229,807 87 


Total fermented liquors ..cccesccececccceess $7,389,141 72 


RRC Etilte aleve aletarelale ticles ele ciclcivle sie seis oe veee se ee $53,671,615 54 


From the above facts, we get an idea of the immense 


alee UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


power of a traffic that can afford to pay such heavy 
amounts of revenue tax, and then roll up ope fortunes 
upon the profits of the business. 

The tax and profit, together with the original cost of 
manufacture, must come out of the pockets of the drink- 
ers, who spend the larger portion of their wages in this 
unprofitable way; and in view of these truths can we 
wonder that there are hard cases of poverty in almost 
every part of our land, that come from the squandering. 
of money in the direction of buying liquor? 

When on the 17th of March Uniac fell, he had 
quite a sum of money put away, and in the short 
space of four weeks he had spent every dollar, and 
pledged his watch for rum; and it is from men like 
this that many men to-day are laying up large for- 
tunes. We need to place these facts before the people 
whenever we can, for while men are debating how to pay 
off the war debt, they fail to see how their taxes are 
affected by the sale of liquor; but some one will answer 
that the government derives a large revenue amount 
from the tax on liquor; granted — but does any one 
_ who gives the subject a moment’s thought, think we do 
not pay out double the amount to support and take care 
of the men and women whose lives come under its power ? 
We have visited ten or twelve State prisons in various 
parts of our land, and in every instance, the officers have 
said to us, “At least nine-tenths of all the prisoners under 
my charge are here, either directly or indirectly, because 
of the use of intoxicating liquors.” We also see by 
the reports of men who have in charge the poor of our 
States, that four out of five are reduced to poverty 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 213 


because of rum, and facts could be shown proving that 
at least three-fourths of all the business of our criminal 
courts, and of the services of our judges and officers of 
courts, as well as the policemen, are necessary, because 
of rum-selling and rum-drinking. I ask, then, the men 
who believe in allowing the sale of liquor because of 
the revenue it brings to the government, to foot up the 
cost of taking care of nine out of ten of your prisoners, 
‘of supporting four out of five of your paupers, of pay- 
ing the salary of your court officers, to say nothing of 
various other ways that might be mentioned, where men 
pay money to take care of the victims of rum selling and 
drinking, and then render in how much net is made to 
the tax-payers of our country, by the revenue on liquors. 
Beside this tremendous array of figures and facts in a 
financial line, look for a moment at another estimate in 
another direction. By careful men who have given the 
best of attention to the matter, we find that one hundred 
_ thousand lives are annually lost by intemperance, two hun- 
dred thousand children sent to the poor-house, one hundred 
thousand men and women sent to prisons, two hundred 
thousand children made worse than orphans, and an army 
of six hundred thousand drunkards tremble and totter 

through the streets of our nation; three hundred and fifty 
thousand persons are employed in connection with the 
liquor traffic.._We have more than four dram-shops to one 
school, two million of children in the United States do 
not attend school, a large majority of whom are detained _ 
by the influence of rum. This is but a casual summary 
of the great traffic that is carrying down in its mighty 
grasp men like him whom we have been following from 


214 UNIAC: HIS LIFE, 


step to step, till the black waters closed over him. But 
is there no bright, side to all this dark shading? I 
thank God, we can answer, yes! The great wave of 
_ progress is rolling ever and on, and though it may be 
impeded for a season, it will have no permanent delay, 
for the pulpit, platform, and press have touched the pub- 
lic heart throughout the length and breadth of the land. 
Public opinion is steadily advancing in the right direc- 
tion. Here and there a laborer may prove false to his 
obligation, but others from the young will come forward 
to take his place, and the movement of the hour is 
forward. There was an age in the history of the world, 
when “God wills it!” was the watchword that sum- 
moned kings, barons, and princes from their castles 
and thrones; when peasants from their dens and hoy- 
els all hastened to join the crusade. It was the 
one grand heart-heaving of the age, and every pulse 
beat responsive to the word. Every age since 
has had its watchword and inspiration; and has this 
age nothing to inspire and push us forward? Yes, on 
every breeze, in every department of active life, comes 
the magic word “ Progress” ; faster and faster is the cry 
of the hour, and God will help us carry on this glorious 
reform so that it shall keep pace with the watchword of 
the age, if we are faithful. But there is work to do and 
prayers to be offered before we shall see that substantial 
progress which we so much hope for and desire. What 
is our army composed of? Who are to open up the way? 
In North America we have, in addition to all the open 
organizations and churches, Sunday-schools, Bands of 
Hope, and other societies dedicated to this work, three 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 215 


hundred and fifty-seven thousand'one hundred and 
nineteen Good Templars who are pledged to total absti- 
nence and prohibition, one hundred and seventeen thou- 
sand five hundred and four Sons of Temperance, and 
seventeen thousand five hundred and more members 
of the Temple of Honor, also pledged to the same prin- 
ciples. Here are a half a million men and women in 
these three organizations alone, who, if true to temper- 
ance on every occasion, will ere long purify our land 
and “make our streets pure and safe” for men like Uniac 
to walk in, as well as to prevent the young from ever 
coming near the contaminating influence of the flaming 
fluid. 

While with tearful eyes and sad hearts we contemplate 
how many must in the deep despair of their souls, like 
Uniac, cry to have the burden lifted from their bleeding 
hearts ; while — 


‘¢Man’s inhumanity to man 
Makes countless thousands mourn,” 


we shall see hours, when it will be indeed hard to press 
on, we shall see men over whom we have watched and 
labored, drawn into temptation and again be stripped of 
their manhood, we shall stand by bedsides of other noble 
and gifted men, and hear them with their dying breath 
curse this traffic; we shall see men who are dealing in 
this human poison petted and honored, and we shall see 
friends who by our exertions have been lifted to places 
of honor and trust betraying the cause, — we shall see and 
feel all this, and perhaps more. But we shall also see 
homes made happy by the onward wave of this reform. 


a 


216 UNIACG: HIS LIFE, 


We shall see husbands restored to their wives, and chil 
dren made happy; we shall feel the consciousness of 
duty done; we shall know that though the wicked may 
for a time seem to flourish and spread themselves like a 
mighty tree, that in a little while they will be cut down 
and perish. We shall see men who for the love of the 
cause will be willing to sacrifice and endure anything in 
the line of duty; we shall ere long catch the music that 
will be wafted to our waiting ears from the golden chime- 
bells of that age foretold by prophets of old, and seen in 
vision by men who were suffering in gloomy dungeons 
for the sake of principle. Yes, we shall see in this free 
America, best of all the “ coming man” with godlike form 
and unshaken step doing his duty, not for office nor place 
nor for self, but for the good of his fellow-man and for the 
honor of God; we shall see this “coming man” not 
under the influence of wine, and clinging to false and dan- 
gerous ideas of social customs and fashionable follies. 
But our representative American of the future shall be as 
a man who, having become purified from the taint of that 
which we so much lament, and being ready to use his 
right as a citizen at the ballot-box in the direction of 
sustaining a government founded on the principle of true 
liberty, where no man shall have the right to traffic in 
the bodies and souls of his fellows; the man who shall 
vote as he prays, — who shall lift up and find no dram- 
shop to drag down. If this portrait of the American 
of the future is not overdrawn, if the time is coming 
when all men who expect to hold places of trust and 
honor shall feel that they must in their lives and pro- 
fessions be true to this matter, then is there indeed hope 
for the future. 


STRUGGLE, AND FALL. 217 


The struggle between rum and temperance, between 
license and prohibition, must go on, till, from the golden 
shores of the Pacific to the storm-beat Atlantic coast 
there shall be no spot of earth above which waves the 
American flag where men shall perish as Uniac did. 

O, by this man’s struggles, by his bitter tears, by his 
thrilling words of personal experience, by his eventful 
life and untimely death, — we indict the liquor traffic 
of the land, we charge upon it his blood, and the blood 
and agony of thousands of other burdened hearts, — by 
all this we hope and pray that our people will not only 
sustain the indictment, but convict and sentence this 
wrong to banishment forever from the earth. 





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